


Hermione Mendonica and the Second Shadow War + 5th Summer

by HornedSerpentNine



Series: Veela's Omen Chronicles [6]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Alfā/Gamma/Delta + Epsilon Dynamics, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Death Eaters active again, F/F, Multi, Umbridge gets what comes for her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-01-27 16:44:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 49,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21395401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HornedSerpentNine/pseuds/HornedSerpentNine
Summary: Year Five at Hogwarts; magic is stirring in the depths of this world, and will Hermione answer its call?
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger/Daphne Greengrass, Hermione Granger/Harem, Hermione Granger/Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger/OC Tarow Greyback
Series: Veela's Omen Chronicles [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1461463
Comments: 142
Kudos: 208





	1. Troll Under The Bridge

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any Harry Potter, nor do I own any lore I found in the Wiki pages/Pottermore.  
My wonderful Beta is Rencae!  
Also, I use Google Translate,  
Also-Also, I attempt to upload on/around Saturday (Eastern Coast time)  
Also-3x, all comments and suggestions are welcome! (I always reply back!)  
Also-4x, I have a VOC Companion series (https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580833)
> 
> Have I got a question for ya'll!
> 
> Hem, hem, who can find the special foreshadowing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione learns more about her heritage, and then meets the Troll!

Hermione studies the tapestry some more. Her birth mother was a _Mendonica_, so she really is related to her family. Hermione sits down, eyes roaming over her ancestors. She is the descendant of _three_ powerful bloodlines, Mendonica, Black, and Grindelwald. Her mind casts back to last night when she held Ancient Olde Magick.

No Alpha witch could do that. Hermione closes her eyes, mentally correcting herself. She was never a Muggleborn, but a Halfblood. Questions race about her birth family through her mind, and for once, she doesn’t feel the need to ask Eto.

Gellert will be a better choice for answers, for he was correct about this. Hermione sighs, and stands up.

“Kreacher, keep this room locked and warded from anyone or thing except me and you.” She orders.

“Yes, Young Mistress,” He croaks, and snaps his fingers. Eyes flicking over the Tapestry, she turns to the Elf.

“Do you obey Sirius Black?” She asks, and he sneers.

“Kreacher had to, but oh, Kreacher did not want to. The Blood Traitor, filth of the Mistress, is no longer connected to the Black family magic, Kreacher finally cast him’s out!” Kreacher smirks. Hermione nods, satisfied with the situation.

“Good. I don’t want anyone to find out who I am just yet, so you must do as Black orders for now, unless it concerns this room.” She instructs, and Kreacher bows low.

“As you command, Young Mistress.”

“Take me to your Mistress, I wish to speak with her,” Hermione orders, and he bows again. Kreacher takes her hand, and pops them downstairs. Hermione can hear the others going to battle with some more creatures upstairs, so she walks over to the Omega Walburga Black’s portrait. She yanks the curtains, the Omega’s mouth already open to scream, when she sees Hermione.

“Hello, Great-Grandmother.”

* * *

Walburga stares at her, looking her up and down.

“If you didn’t have the Black eyes, I would think you a halfbreed-mongrel.” She sneers, her voice high and raspy from screaming at all hours. Hermione’s fingers twitch, but she keeps a neutral face on.

“How do I fit into the Black family magic work?” Hermione asks the portrait. She pulls on Tyche and Err’sh’s Familiar bonds, and feels them move into positions guarding the hall from any unwanted listeners. Kreacher stands at attention, staring adoringly at the painted Omega. Walburga draws herself up importantly.

“It means that the Black male line shall continue on with you, as the son of my niece Narcissa Black will be the Malfoy Heir, and my blood traitor son is disowned.” She says in her horrible voice. There’s a very smug expression on her face.

“Great-Grandmother, I am the Second Heir of the Most Prestigious and Most Ancient House of Mendonica,” She pauses, and then decides to add, “And the last Heir of the Most Ambitious and Most Destructive House of Grindelwald.” Hermione says calmly, and Walburga’s eyes widen astronomically.

“_Three_ Great Houses?” She breathes, and she practically vibrates with excitement. Her words devolves into a mad ramble, and Hermione only catches bits and parts of it.

“. . . Keep pure . . . Yes . . . Head Black . . . No . . . last most come first . . . French unneeded . . . Heir Black? . . . Hmmm . . . Oh Grindelwald . . . Multiple marriages? . . . Old covenant . . . Yes . . . _Yes,_” Walburga looks up at Hermione, smiling with her terrible teeth showing.

“I shall help you my child,” Walburga croons, and Kreacher smiles widely.

“As my niece is already Head Black, she has more claim on the Black seat in the Wizengamot, even though she is from Cygnus’ line,” The last part is muttered with distain.

“However, you must legalize your legitimacy at Gringotts and with the Ministry so that you may have access to the Black family Vaults and to open more of your own.” Walburga says.

“And those are?” Hermione asks.

“Numerous Trust and Personal Vaults, the shared Family Vault, and Vault seven-hundred-eleven. Currently, my niece holds all the Vaults except my Blood Traitor son’s Personal Vault.” Walburga states proudly. Hermione doesn’t try to compute how much gold she’ll acquire once she goes to Gringotts, but with that gold combined with her Mendoncia gold, she’ll probably be the richest Alfā ever.

‡_Sssroosss-Sssueensss-Sssirasss! [Brood-Queen Mother!] Black approachesss!_‡ Tyche hisses from the first landing, and Hermione shuts the curtains.

* * *

“Oi! I’m a Prefect so show me some respect!” Ron yells at Fred and George as the twins titter mockingly as they circle around their brother. Hermione traces her own metal Prefect badge. It’s shaped like a shield, silver lining the rim, and on the Slytherin snake field is a large “P” design. Harold keeps readjusting his badge on his robes, awkwardly fiddling with it.

Everyone fully expected Harry to be Prefect, and the Alpha was sour that his Beta got the position instead of him. It’s put an evident strain on their friendship, and the two boys walk on eggshells around each other.

However, as she stands on crowded Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, she ignores the whispers from the crowd around her. Luna, Harold, and Neville keep to her side, creating a barrier around her. She absently feels her shrunken trunk in her pocket. Cobra had delivered it that morning, and he even packed her Skull-Hookah in the secret compartment.

Her mind casts back to Fleur, who was only held back from joining Hermione on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters by the terrifying force of nature that is Alpha Lily Potter. The Veela Alpha had grumbled, but relented under the emerald-green stare of the Alpha woman. Hermione might send Tyche over to keep Fleur company.

“Merlin! Look over there! That’s her!”

“I can’t believe I’m looking at the I.W.O.R. Champion!”

“Why’s she still in school?”

“I heard she started older,”

“She’s so tall!”

“Do you think I could get her autograph?”

“Oh Merlin, she’s really hot,” Hermione keeps neutral expression on, but her eyes flick over to a gaggle of witches, and they squeal when she does.

“She looked at us!” One of them gasps.

“Excuse me! Coming through,” Daphne pushes her way through the crowd, leaving a trail of disgruntled fans. A smile brightens on Hermione’s face as Daphne approaches.

“You would not believe the traffic to even walk through the Platform today, all these bloody nuisances—eey!” Hermione grabs Daphne’s hand and pulls her into a tight hug.

“I have to tell you something important,” Hermione whispers seriously into the Beta’s ear, and Daphne nods. Her arms wrap around Hermione, and Hermione can hear Daphne breathing in deeply.

“Mmm, okay,”

“HI MIO!” Astoria yells, tackling Hermione’s side. Daphne lets out a hiss as she’s pushed from Hermione.

“Hello ma Loupe, [my Wolf,]” Hermione chuckles, petting the young Alpha’s head. Astoria’s mouth is moving a kilometer-a-second, detailing her very boring summer with her sister. She’s babbling so loudly, Hermione doesn’t hear the tiny footsteps of a little Omega girl behind her.

“Oi Lurch,” Harold says, nodding to the little Omega. Hermione turns around, and Astoria shuts up. The little Omega shivers under their gazes, but she confidently thrusts out a folded piece of parchment. Crouching down, Hermione takes it, the crowd around them gets quiet.

Tyche flicks her tongue curiously from her place around Hermione’s neck and shoulders. Unfolding the parchment, Hermione glances over the almost illiterate scrawl professing her love for Hermione. The little Omega shifts from one foot to the other nervously. When Hermione looks at the little Omega, she feels a pang for what she and Fleur could have had.

Looking back at the parchment, she blows her magic on it, transfiguring it into a small snow globe. Inside the glass, green snow flurries lazily around the Slytherin snake. Handing the snow globe to the shocked little Omega with a small smile, Hermione stands to board the Hogwarts Express.

* * *

In the Prefect compartment, Hermione reclines on her cushion next to Draco. They sit in silence, both simply appreciating each other’s presence. Ron on the other hand, can’t seem to shut up about Quidditch, and his Gryffindor counterpart, Beta Parvati Patil, looks bored out of her mind.

Sitting next to her twin, Alpha Padma Patil chats with Alpha Morag MacDougal. Draco leans over and whispers the latest news in the Hogwarts royal hierarchy. It turns out, Padma is now the King of Ravenclaw, and she chose Omega Su Li and Beta Lisa Turpin to be her Queen and Beta of Ravenclaw.

Also, Alpha Susan Bones has stepped up to King of Hufflepuff, now that Cedric has graduated. She’s sitting next to Harold, talking about History of Magic in quiet voices. Draco tells Hermione that Susan has chosen Omega Hannah Abbott to be her Queen—no surprise there—and Beta Sally-Anne Perks to be her Beta of Hufflepuff.

Soon, the rest of the Prefect pairs from the older years fill the compartment, and the Head Girl and Boy—Hufflepuff Alpha Jane Court and Ravenclaw Alpha James Hill—call the twenty-four Prefects to order.

Hermione sits up, and Tyche slithers onto the table in front of her. Err’sh is flying ahead to meet up with Mrs. Norris. The Prefects duties are quite simple; keep order among the students and be role models. They even can mete out point deduction and detentions for misbehaving students.

After a stern warning to not abuse the point system, they’re free to leave. Hermione gathers Tyche in her arms, and she hurries out to speak with Daphne. Pulling the Beta out of her compartment, Daphne’s initial flush disappears when Hermione tells her in hushed tones what Maxine did.

“No! Why?! Are you going to issue a _persona non grata?_” Daphne gasps, and Hermione grimaces.

“I can’t, but Eto can,” She replies, and the Beta pales.

“You are going to tell her, right?”

Hermione nods stiffly, and Daphne sighs. Stepping forwards, the Beta hugs Hermione tightly.

“I’ll see what I can do to make _her_ pay for what she did, but Mio,” Hermione looks into Daphne’s brilliant grass-green eyes.

“England has laws against people like Fleur, and they won’t care that, well, you know,” Daphne says, and Hermione growls.

“Aren’t you friends with DMLE Head Black? You could possible ask her help for this,” The Beta continues. Hermione thinks about it, wondering what plausible reason that Maxine could be banned from England. Then it hits her. Fleur started avoiding her after the Second Test, which had to mean that Maxine committed her atrocious on Hogwarts land.

Which is perfect grounds to start a proper argument. If Maxine doesn’t care if she gets caught ruining her students on foreign land, then she defiantly won’t care if she’s caught doing it on her own land. Hermione smiles darkly at Daphne, and holds the Beta close as plans begin to form in her mind.

* * *

Sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, Hermione yawns, leaning her head on Astoria’s. The young Alpha still doesn’t understand is that she’s getting too big to be sitting in Hermione’s lap. She looks up at the High Table, noticing that Professor Grubbly-Plank has replaced Hagrid.

Her gaze slides to the DADA chair, and blinks when she sees a pink blob occupying that seat. Astoria growls, stiffening, and Daphne gasps.

“What is _she_ doing here?!” Daphne hisses, glaring at the new DADA Professor. The woman is wearing all pink, squad, with an overly grandmother face, and Hermione instinctively knows she’s trouble. Tyche flicks her tongue, and hisses under breath.

“That’s Alpha Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary for the Minister of Magic, and she holds a spot in the Wizengamot.” Beta Tracey mutters darkly.

“She’s a right bitch.” Pansy says, and Omega Tracey nods.

“Yeah, I heard that she’s also a Beastiaphobe,” The Omega says, and Pansy gives her an unamused look.

“That isn’t a word Tracey.” She scoffs, making the Omega frown and look away.

“So the Ministry is interfering with Hogwarts.” Hermione mutters to Daphne and Draco. The First years come in, and the Sorting Hat begins to sing a new, different song.

“I’ve never heard the Hat give advice before,” Blaise says.

“The Hat’s magically bound to say if the school is in danger—” Hestia starts.

“The warning is always to ≠ ‘stand together, stay strong from within.’ ≠” Flora finishes.

“Perhaps it has something to do with the pink toad looking thing.” Hermione states, and most of the Slytherins whip their attention towards her.

“What?” Hermione asks.

“The last time you called a Professor an animal he became a permeant resident of St Mungos!” Millicent gasps fearfully. Hermione hums, and glances back at Umbridge. The sorting ends, and the feast begins. Hermione spends most of her time feeding Tyche, and Daphne slides food onto Hermione’s plate.

After the feast ends, Dumbledore stands to speak, and a soft ≠ ‘_hem, hem,_’ ≠ coughs behind him. The whole school is a bit stunned, and even Dumbledore pauses, surprised he is interrupted. He opens his mouth to speak again, and Umbridge coughs out another _hem hem_.

Turning to her, he tilts his head at her.

“Students, I present Professor Umbridge to the podium,” He says, and there’s an uncertain applause. A flash of annoyance crosses the Alpha woman’s face, but she plasters on a condescending smile. Walking up to the podium, she gives another cough.

“_Hem, hem,_ ≠ thank you, Headmaster, ≠ and good evening children,” She says in a high, childlike voice that has an airiness to it that makes her sound eternally ditzy.

“I’m so glad to be here, ≠ and how lovely to see all your bright happy faces smiling up at me,”

No one smiles.

“I’m sure we’re all going to be very good friends,” ≠ Umbridge gives a pause, as if waiting for someone to confirm her poor assumption. Draco rolls his eyes. When the Alpha woman realizes no one is going to speak, she continues, and her words get a little more serious.

≠ “The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards of vital importance. Although each Headmaster has brought something new to this historic school . . . ”

She nods to Dumbledore.

“Progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged. Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected and prune practices that ought to be prohibited.” ≠ Umbridge says brightly, but Hermione and the rest of the Slytherins can see the double meaning in her speech. The Ministry is telling the students to snitch on those who don’t conform with the Ministry dogma.

Hermione sneers and while the rest of the school begin to give Umbridge an awkward, soft applause, she moves to stand. Astoria leaps off her, and her Court stand as well. Umbridge looks in their direction, her fake smile tightening a little.

“First years, this way!” Hermione orders loudly, striding by the table. Draco echoes her, and the whole Slytherin house bustle out of the Great Hall without being dismissed. The applause is cut short as other Prefects stand.

“Hufflepuffs, follow me!” Susan calls, and soon the rest of the Houses follow suit. In seconds, everyone has cleared out, leaving a fuming Umbridge still waiting for her applause.

* * *

The Slytherins reach the portrait of _The Slytherin Witch_, and she bows her head at Hermione respectfully.

“Password?” She sneers, wrinkling her nose at the sight of the First years.

“Mardor.” Draco says, and the Slytherins enter the Common Room.

“First years, claim your rooms and come back down here,” Hermione orders, and they hurry to obey. The rest of the House pass by, and soon, the First years are gathered in front of Hermione and Draco. Most of them stare at Tyche, who flicks her tongue at some of them.

“Firsst thing you all sshould know, iss that you are now part of the greasst Housse in Hogwartss,” Draco says proudly, and a few First years straighten up.

“We are know for our pride, our ambition, and our cunning, but we are more than that,” He continues, and Hermione speaks.

“There is a part of every House values in us, so if a Gryffindor mocks you, or if a Ravenclaw outwits you, or if a Hufflepuff shuns you, just remember that Slytherin does not mean evil. It does not mean dark,” Hermione says, and Tyche nods.

“We are a family, which leadss uss to the only three Housse ruless,” Draco says. “Rule one: we sstand united againsst thosse who try to hurt uss. Thiss meanss if you see a fellow Ssnake being messsed with, then the whole Pit dealss with it.”

“Rule two: if you have any problems with your fellow Snakes, figure it out only in this Common Room. Also, do try to not let the Houses become aware of your problem.” Hermione says.

“And lasstly, rule three: if you’re breaking the ruless, don’t get caught or get blamed.” Draco finishes. Hermione smiles to herself, remembering how she was introduced to Slytherin House.

“Good, now off to bed.” Hermione orders, and the First years scurry away.

* * *

In Potions, Professor Snape is as brutal as ever, but she notices something no one else does. He smells like _flowers_. Hermione’s eyes widen, and she looks down when he comes around. She wishes Tyche was with her so she could talk to her about it, but the Horned Serpent is currently being Fleur’s living pillow.

Daphne nudges her, and Hermione looks up at her.

“I was just thinking, what do you want to be when you grow up?” The Beta whispers. A few desks away, Professor Snape deducts points from Neville and Ron for whispering.

“I don’t know, although I suppose I could kill Minister Riddle, establish my own dogma through a figurehead Minister, and finally annex Britain as one of France’s tribute states.” Hermione drawls. Daphne gapes, then narrows her eyes, and slaps Hermione’s shoulder.

“Don’t be so morbid,” She hisses, her eyes darting around. Hermione leans down, nuzzling her nose against the Beta’s cheek.

“I thought you liked that,” She purrs, and Daphne’s breath hitches. Going back to her potion, she gives Daphne’s question some thought.

“I might just travel around,” Hermione says seriously.

“Really?” Daphne hums. “Would you be opposed to company?” She asks.

“I would not be opposed to your company,” Hermione purrs, and Daphne blushes again.

“Although your sister will want to come as well,” Hermione says as an afterthought, and Daphne groans.

* * *

Hermione’s day goes along quite splendidly, that is until Defense Against the Dark Arts. Taking her seat next to Beta Tracey, Umbridge looks up from her roster, staring at Hermione.

“My dear, aren’t you a Seventh year?” She simpers in her childish voice. All soft conversation stops.

“No, Professor, I’m a Fifth year.” Hermione replies, taking out the absolutely barmy textbook for this class. Umbridge cocks her head, and a disgusting smile appears on her face.

“But then how could you participated in the I.W.O.R.?” She asks, and Hermione smells a trap.

“I was seventeen.” Technically, her birthday had come and gone, and due to the Time-Turner, she’s officially nineteen.

“I see, then you are no longer required to take this course, good day.”

The temperature plummets in the room as everyone hisses in a shocked breath. Hermione blinks, folding her hands on her desk.

“I still need to take my required seven years of schooling, and the School Board deems me fit enough to be in these classes.” Hermione says. She surprises herself for being so outwardly calm. Umbridge smiles sickly again.

“Is that so? Well, this school needs some fixing, so off you go.”

Hermione stills.

“Excuse me?” She asks softly. Umbridge points to the board, the O.W.L. acronym spelling itself out, with ‘only Fifth and Sixth years’ written boldly under it.

“You should have graduated last year, my dear, so you ought to pack your things and go,” Umbridge smiles brightly, and mouths drop. An image of the Alpha writhing on the floor as she looms over her flashes before Hermione’s eyes, and she stands up slowly. Surprisingly, she’s not mad at the toad woman, but she is annoyed.

“I could say the very same about you.” Hermione drawls, and there’s another shocked gasp. Calmly, and deliberately sluggishly slow, Hermione gathers her supplies, maintaining a lazy eye contact with Umbridge. The Alpha woman’s face starts to pinch when she realizes she’s not getting the reaction she wanted. Hermione stand, and smirks at Umbridge.

Or perhaps she should start calling her something else. Sauntering out of the class, Hermione stops by the door, and turns back to Umbridge, a dull look on her face.

“Oh, and _good day_ to you too, Pink Toad.” With that, she shuts the door politely, knowing that a soft click echoes louder than a slam.


	2. Laying Down The Foundation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and her Court start gearing up to oppose the Pink Toad!

Hermione stalks the halls towards the dungeons, stopping before Professor Snape’s classroom. Taking a breath, she knocks. There’s a few seconds of waiting, but she hears Professor Snape bid her to enter. Hermione walks into the classroom, surveying the Fourth year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.

Professor Snape looks up, a slight crease wrinkling his brow. Ignoring the curious stares, Hermione walks up to Professor Snape’s desk, staring into his eyes. He gets the hint, and she feels a brush of his mind against her natural _Occlumency_ shields. Hermione opens them, and hears him.

_I hope you have a good reason to interrupt my class, Miss Mendonica._ His mental voice snarks, andshe nods.

_Umbridge evicted me from her class,_ Hermione says, and Professor Snape raises one eyebrow.

_I see . . . I shall speak with Dumbledore. In the meantime, you may stay here or peruse the halls at your risk and leisure._ He drawls, and she nods, letting her natural shields jump up. Setting her things on his desk, Hermione starts to idly prowl the rows of students, checking their potions. Professor Snape watches her, but doesn’t comment. She passes by Alpha Peter Silverthorn, and he straightens, working intently on his potion.

She just so happens to pass by a Hufflepuff Beta and see him rise a full eyedropper to his potion. In an instant, she snatches his wrist, jerking it away from the cauldron. He jumps, squirting the contents of the eyedropper onto the floor. Hermione holds in her sigh, and hears Professor Snape’s irritated hiss.

Hermione lowers his hand to his desk and places the eyedropper next to his hand. By now, everyone’s watching them.

“Your name?” She asks.

“B-B-Beta Ryan Rinaman,” He replies, terrified of her wrath.

“Well, Mr. Rinamna, pray tell, what were you doing?” Hermione demands, and Ryan opens and closes his mouth, trying to get words to come out.

“I-I-I-I w-w-was adding the d-d-drops of h-h-hellebore.”

“How many.”

He shivers under her stern gaze.

“I-I-I-I-” He can’t seem to make a sentence, and Hermione has to tamp down the little thrill it sends her. She gestures to the front of the class.

“Mr. Rinaman, please read the instructions, _out loud_.” He turns to the board, squinting.

≠ “ ‘A-a-add powered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes, then add two drops of syrup of hellebore.’ ” ≠

“You added _five_ already.” A few Ravenclaws snicker, but a cutting deduction of points from Professor Snape shuts them up.

“Everyone else get back to work,” He growls, and they all do hastily. Hermione settles into a more relaxed stance, subtly releasing her soothing Alfā pheromones.

“Do you like Herbology?” She asks, and he relaxes, an easy smile lighting his face up.

“Very much—Ma’m!”

“Alright. What are the properties of Gillyweed.”

He looks confused, but he still answers her.

“Um, it’s a magical plant that’s native to the Mediterranean Sea, er, when eaten, the consumer grows gills and webbing between their fingers and toes, so they can swim and breath underwater. In fresh water the effects last roughly an hour, but in salt water it might differ.” Ryan says confidently. Hermione nods.

“Good. Now tell me about hellebore.” Ryan perks up now, and he speaks clearly.

“Most species of hellebore are poisonous, and it’s early uses were used to treat paralysis, gout, and insanity, but since they’re so poisonous, they need to be tempered by a soothing agent . . .” He trails off when he notices most of the class staring at him. Hermione grins at him.

“There you go, you have a leg up on the rest of the class since you know the ingredients themselves,” She says, and Peter gives Ryan a thumbs up, making the Beta blush. Hermione _Evanescos_ his potion.

“Herbology and Potions go hand-in-hand, Mr. Rinaman, know the material, complete the potion. Simple enough. Although, one point from Hufflepuff for almost making a disaster.” Hermione says, and she and Professor Snape swap positions. He just gives her an indescribable look as he stalks past her, looming over two sweating Ravenclaws.

Hermione just shrugs, leaning back in his chair. After a minute of boredom, she starts to do her homework.

* * *

At dinner, a magnificent Great Horned Owl lands in front of Hermione. He lifts his leg, and Hermione unties the letter. The Great Horned hoots snootily, and grabs a whole hunk of steak from her plate. Hermione hisses at it, and the owl takes the air, narrowly avoiding being body slammed by an irritated Err’sh.

Rolling her eyes at her Familiar’s antics, she looks at the letter. It has the seal of the Minister of Magic himself. Turning the letter over, she reads:

_Lady Mendonica, please give this to Under Secretary Umbridge._

Hermione carefully makes a slit in the seal, and the letter opens. On it is a single sentence which makes her smirk.

_Ms. Umbridge_

_Reinstate Lady Mendonica to your roster, and Ms. Umbridge, never humiliate me in front of Head Mendonica again._

_Minister of Magic_

Grinning, Hermione mends the slit in the seal, and gets ready for her night patrol with a pep in her step.

* * *

Hermione swaggers into her DADA class, sitting next to Daphne leisurely. The Beta keeps darting her eyes between Hermione and the Pink Toad.

“Miss Mendonica, I thought I told—” The squat Alpha starts, but Hermione pulls out the letter from Minister Riddle.

“It’s for you,” She holds it out lazily, not moving from her chair. The Pink Toad has to waddle forwards to take the letter in her grubby fingers. Her eyes bulge at the seal, and she opens it shakily, and then the Pink Toad seems to lose her breath.

“Something the matter?” Hermione drawls, and the Pink Toad folds up the letter.

“. . . You may stay . . . Miss Mendonica.” She bites out, and Hermione can’t help the smug look that stays through the dull class. It’s all theory, but that doesn’t bother Hermione as much, since she can always study on her own. Throughout the class, the Pink Toad keeps glaring at Hermione, and Hermione always makes sure to smirk at her.

Mendonica—one.

Toad—zero.

The bell rings, and everyone hurries to flee the room.

“Miss Mendonica?”

Hermione turns around, seeing the nasty Alpha’s smile.

“Detention, Friday.” The Pink Toad snipes, trying to get under Hermione’s skin. Instead, she lets a sly smile out.

“My Mother will hear about this.” She drawls, leaving the pale-faced Toad in fear.

* * *

Hermione tunes out Draco chatting her ear off about the Quidditch Tryouts on Friday on her way to the Pink Toad’s office.

“Alpha Sscwigly Urquhart’ss the new Captain—he’ss seen me fly, and there’ss no way he’s replacing me.” He brags, and Hermione nods again.

“Enlightening,” She says dryly, and Draco ignores the comment.

“I’ll ssign you up for resserve Sseeker,” He says, and they arrive at a bright pink, wooden door.

“Good luck,” He mutters, and Hermione nods. She walks into the small office, and the Pink Toad stands. All over the walls, plates with meowing kittens cover every inch of the pink stone. Bella must loathe the Pink Toad’s guts. Hermione sits down in the chair in front of the desk, letting the Pink Toad’ssimpering voice in one ear and out the other.

The Pink Toad slides a piece of paper in front of her, and Hermione twirls the quill between her fingers. She wonders what would happen if the Pink Toad knew that Hermione was a Lady of House Black.

She notices the lack of ink, and suspicion rises in her.

“What am I to write?” Hermione asks blankly, inspecting the metal nib. There are runes that are finely carved into the nib, and Hermione realizes it’s a Blood Quill. The Pink Toad grins vindictively.

“I want you to write, ‘_I shall not snitch on a Professor._’”

Hermione stares at the runes, and breathes slowly on them. The runes shrivel as her magic fills them with metal, leaving only the normal engravings. Shrugging, she scratches the quill against the paper, and nothing happens.

“I need ink, Professor,” Hermione says sweetly, and the Pink Toad’s face reddens in fury. She storms forwards and snatches the quill from Hermione’s hand.

“What have you done you deceitful brat?! Do you know how much—” The Pink Toad snarls, but she cuts herself off. Hermione smirks, and shrugs again, drumming her fingers against the desk. She purposefully reveals the unmarred back of her hand, and the Pink Toad’s fury heightens.

Growling to herself, the Pink Toad grabs a quill and ink cartridge and thrusts them at Hermione.

“Just write the damn lines,” She hisses, and Hermione complies with a lazy attitude.

* * *

Hermione writes the same line over and over as she watches the night go by, and by the time she uses up all the ink, it’s two in the morning. She looks up, seeing the Pink Toad snoring loudly, and smirks. Grinning, she waves her hand at the Pink Toad. The Blood Quill appears in her hands, and a fake is left in its place.

Stowing the Quill, Hermione gets up silently. Walking to the door, she opens it, and slams it as hard as she can on her way out. The startled shriek makes her crackle, and she morphs into a Barn Owl just as the Pink Toad’s door crashes open. Soaring down the halls, Hermione lands in front of the Hospital Wing.

Morphing back, she takes out the Quill and releases her magic on it. Instantly, the blood-siphoning runes reappear. Hermione knocks on the Hospital Wing doors loudly, and within seconds a half asleep Madam Pomfrey wrenches open the doors.

“Who’s hurt?!” She gasps, blinking when she only sees Hermione.

“I found this Blood Quill near Professor Umbridge’s office,” She says, and Madam Pomfrey blinks again.

“Perhaps you should stock up on _Murtlap Essence_.” Hermione says suggestively, and Madam Pomfrey takes the Blood Quill. Without a word, the Omega woman slams the door in Hermione’s face.

* * *

Quidditch tryouts happen, Hermione sitting with the other Slytherin girls watching it. The tryouts go smoothly, until Ron tries out for Keeper. He misses three out of five Quaffles, and the new Gryffindor Captain, Alicia Spinnet, has to ground him. Cormac McLaggen rises into the air, but he keeps looking over at them, trying to pose. Pansy sneers at him as he misses all Quaffles.

Thus, Ron wins the Keeper position, and Hermione lets Draco leave his patrol early to go cause some trouble for the Gryffindors.

* * *

It’s the weekend, and so Hermione brings Err’sh and Skeeter Beetle down to the breakfast table. Draco’s eyes widen out at the small bug cage, and the beetle contently races around her cage, for she forgot her previous life. A sad little effect of staying in her Animagus form too long.

Err’sh nuzzles her head when she sits.

*Don’t tell her this, but I miss my little flockmate,* Err’sh whistles, and Hermione grins melancholily at him.

*I’m sure Fleur is pampering her,* Hermione tweets, and her prescription of the _Daily Prophet_ is delivered. Opening it, her eyes are drawn to a small article at the bottom of the front page.

Alpha Sturgis Podmore charged with ≠ six months in Azkaban ≠ for attempted theft from the Ministry!

Trepidation fills her, and she passes off the _Daily Prophet_ to Daphne. As the day progresses, this feeling grows. The rest of her Court pick up on her mood, and it makes it all the more harder for Hermione to detangle herself from Daphne and Beta Tracey. On her way to the Basilisk’s Lair, she passes by the Weasley twins trying out their Skiving Snackboxes on Gryffindor First years.

Inside the Basilisk’s Lair with Asclepius, Hermione’s in the middle of telling him about her Apparation test over the summer, and the one old Alpha proctor who wouldn’t stop flirting with her. Err’sh arrives with another copy of the _Daily Prophet_, and Asclepius averts his eyes.

*It’s horrid, but Mrs. Norris doesn’t mind.* He whistles, and then flies away.

‡_What newsss doesss the enchanted leaf sssay, Ssspeaker-Sssueensss-Usssurper? [Speaker-Queen-Usurper?]_‡ Asclepius hisses. Hermione quickly scans the paper, and burns it with disgust.

‡_The Pink Toad hasss been granted the posssition of Hogwartsss High Inquisssitor, officccial with the passsssing of Decree Twenty-Three._‡ She hisses angrily. Asclepius hisses wordlessly, and Hermione feels a pain of loneliness. She misses Tyche. The Basilisk senses this, and he lowers his head, bumping her with his nose.

‡_How long have you been ssseperated?_‡ He hisses gently, and Hermione shrugs.

‡_Weeksss._‡ She hisses, and Asclepius nods.

‡_Then sssummon Sssueensss-Sssroosss-Sssanasss [Queen-Brood-Daughter]._‡ Asclepius hisses simply, and Hermione sighs.

‡_Ssshe’sss with Fleur, to watch over her,_‡ She hisses, and Asclepius tilts his head.

‡_Isss thisss Fleur Sssroosss [Brood] or Sssonsssort? [Consort?]_‡

Hermione warms, thinking of her open relationship with Fleur.

‡_Sssonsssort. [Consort.]_‡

Asclepius nods again, and a pleased grin creeps onto his face.

‡_I mussst advissse that Ssspeaker-Sssueensss-Usssurper [Speaker-Queen-Usurper] claim many Sssonsssortsss [Consorts] ssso that your bloodline ssshall have plenty of Heirsss.‡_ The Basilisk hisses, and Hermione keeps silent. While polygamy might be tolerated in the Wizarding, multiple marriages are out of the question. Hermione shakes her head, wondering why her thoughts jumped right towards marriage.

‡_Ssspeaker-Sssueensss-Usssurper [Speaker-Queen-Usurper] can look through Sssueensss-Sssroosss-Sssanasss’sss [Queen-Brood-Daughter’s] eyesss,_‡ Asclepius hisses. Humming, Hermione closes her eyes, feeling along her Familiar bond with Tyche. Instantly, an image of Fleur appears, dozing in the afternoon light.

Tyche lifts her head, turning to face a small mirror on the wall. At once, Hermione can see her Familiar has grown, as her body can easily coil around the full length of Fleur.

‡_Sssroosss-Sssueensss-Sssirasss? [Brood-Queen-Mother?]_‡ She hisses, and Fleur shifts, waking up.

“**Is it Hermione?**” The Veela Alpha asks groggily in French, and Tyche turns back to Fleur. Hermione’s heart warms when she sees only pale, healing bruises. By now, her flesh is mostly unmarred. Tyche tilts her head back and forth, and Fleur sits up, waking up more.

“**Is she in trouble? Does she need you?**”

‡_I jussst want to check on Fleur,_‡ Hermione hisses, and Tyche shakes her head at Fleur. The Horned Serpent looks around the room, and then stares at a particularly large, empty wall. Concentrating on it, her forehead gem glows white. Fleur startles, and her head snaps towards the wall.

In unsteady strokes, Tyche rips off strips of plaster, spelling out the words:

_SHE SEES YOU. SHE LOVES YOU._

Fleur smiles brightly at that, and looks curiously down at Tyche.

“**Are you there, Alfā?**” She drawls, and Tyche nods. The Veela Alpha smiles wider, and gathers Tyche against her chest, holding onto the Horned Serpent tightly.

“**I miss you. I would be so lonely if Tyche wasn’t here, I don't know what I would have done,**” Fleur murmurs into Tyche’s scales, and Hermione’s Familiar hisses soothingly.

‡_I missss you too,_‡ Hermione hisses, and Tyche carves her words into the ceiling. Fleur chuckles, and strokes Tyche’s head. The door to Fleur’s room suddenly opens, and Lily’s startled squeak disturbs the peaceful atmosphere. It kickstarts Tyche’s highly overprotective instincts and she hisses furiously, and accidentally throws Hermione out of her mind.

She groans, falling against Asclepius, nursing a growing headache. The Basilisk hisses his wordless disappoint.

‡_It ssseemsss I have more to teach Sssueensss-Sssroosss-Sssanasss. [Queen-Brood-Daughter.]_‡ He hisses.

* * *

With the Pink Toad as the High Inquisitor, every class is full of tension, waiting for her to come and “inspect” their class. Hermione isn’t sure if she’s lucky or unlucky for not having any of her classes inspected yet. Eventually, in Hermione’s Transfiguration class, the Pink Toad comes in.

Everyone hunkers down, watching as Professor McGonagall intently. The Beta woman doesn’t back down and smoothly insinuates insults and sharp threats at the Pink Toad, never giving the squat bitch a chance to speak.

All the while, the Pink Toad is writing furiously, and Hermione nudges Daphne with a smirk on her face. Daphne glances over to the Pink Toad, and Hermione snaps her fingers softly, and the furiously scratching quill snaps in half, splattering ink all over the page. The class sniggers as the Pink Toad stares at her quill in disbelief.

Snarling to herself, she storms out of the class, still holding the pieces of her quill. The second the door closes, Professor McGonagall levels Hermione with a accusing gaze, and she shrugs innocently. The Beta woman huffs, and continues her lesson, but Hermione hears her award Slytherin five points.

* * *

“The Pink Toad is growing into her power, stunting Hogwarts’ herself with her foul presence.” Hermione says calmly to Daphne, images of the Alpha woman under a whip crawling into her mind. She shakes it away. The rest of her Court lean in to listen.

“Come off it, you already study by yourself anyway.” Pansy snorts.

“You could teach us! I heard you were a brilliant Potions assistant.” Astoria says quickly, shooting a dark look at Pansy.

“Oh, like a personal tutor!” Millicent says brightly. Hermione sits up at that, millions of ideas racing through her head. Draco nods.

“Lotss of Purebloodss have perssonal tutorss, sso the idea will be very appealing to Halfbloodss and Mugglebornss.” He says.

“Not to mention that most will come just because it’s Hermione,” Theodore drawls, and Hermione smirks at him.

“Alright. Once I procure a suitable teaching space, I’ll extend the invitation to the other houses.” Hermione says, and Daphne grins, then stands. The Common Room quiets instantly, and a thick silence weighs heavily on them. Looking around at the Slytherins, Daphne glances down at Hermione before she speaks.

“Slytherins! Today the Court begins our campaign against one Alpha Dolores Umbridge!” The Beta says in a strong, clear voice. A great number of yells of agreement sound from the older students and one loud one from Astoria. Hermione stands, and places a hand on Daphne’s shoulder, smiling broadly.

“Your King of Slytherin wholeheartedly backs your Queen of Slytherin,” Hermione barks, and a low hiss of excited whispers start up. Jittery tension starts to build, and Beta Tracey stands up.

“The Court votes _yea_ in favor of this course of action! What say you?” She calls, and Draco leaps to his feet.

“_Yea_ for Alpha Draco Malfoy!” He roars. Startling a few students with the passion of his conviction. A few of the other Quidditch players shout yea’s as well. Roseanne stands, getting some of her friends to shout _yea_.

“_Yea_ for Alpha Astoria Greengrass!” Astoria howls, and soon, all the Court members are shouting. The rest of the House joins in, and the younger years are swept up in the building tension. Hermione grins ferally, and Daphne somehow turns the mindless chaotic din into a single chant.

“_YEA! YEA! YEA!”_ The Slytherin House roars, shaking the walls with their fervor. Hermione laughs, and she picks up Daphne to spin her around. Throwing her head back, she howls.

“_DOWN WITH THE TOAD!_”

The Slytherins join her howl, all chanting the same thing.

“_DOWN! DOWN! DOWN!_”

* * *

That night, Hermione jolts awake from a dream, her heart pounding.

“Mmgh, Mio . . .” Daphne’s sleep addled voice murmurs, and Hermione stares at her as the Beta rolls over to face her.

“Stop staring at me and get in . . .” Daphne says quietly, and Hermione huffs. Picking up a snoring Err’sh, she tucks him under her covers and climbs into Daphne’s bed. The Beta shuffles backwards to allow Hermione more room, then curls herself against Hermione’s front.

“Comfortable, ma Tigresse? [my Tigress?]” Hermione whispers, idly stroking white-blond hair as she tries to remember her dream. She’s pretty sure it was another snake one, but she’s too comfortable to go get her Skull Hookah to find out.

“Oh Merlin . . .” Daphne sighs, and falls back to sleep. Hermione wraps her arms around the Beta, tucking Daphne’s head under her chin. Closing her eyes, she hears Tyche’s voice through their Familiar bond.

‡_Sssroosss-Sssueensss-Sssirasss [Brood-Queen-Mother] . . . Look into my eyesss,_‡ The Horned Serpent hisses, and suddenly she’s in Tyche’s mind. Hermione stares through her Familiar’s eyes as Tyche looks into a mirror. Hermione sees the shimmery white lightning flashing around her slitted pupils.

The lighting suddenly glows brilliant, and Hermione’s eyes roll back into her skull.

* * *

_The floor is cold, the black stone blocks slotted between off white mortar. Hermione can sense that the surrounding air is chilly, but it doesn’t faze the snake. The images methodically shifts back and forth. She’s low to the stone, but close enough to see the reflection of the blue-fire torches on the tiles. Not another living being is here, and nary a sound is made save the gentle scratching of the snake’s body._

_A tongue flicks out, tasting the stale air. The snake is looking for something, and Hermione senses she’s pleased that there’s nothing. The images continues to travel the twisting halls, encountering no one. Briefly, Hermione feels a pang of sadness sweeps through the snake at the loss of her offspring, the only one who survived when her maternal instincts went out._

_The images swing left, and Hermione sees an imposing black door at the end of it. The snake scents the stale blood in the air. The snake turns away, and a tongue flicks into view again. The snake rises up high and then arching down. Seeing the snake’s body, Hermione spots a pouch tied to the snake. The images zoom in on the pouch, prodding it open, then dives in._

— . —

_Occlumens_ = Occlumency Spell

_Evanescos_ = Vanishing Spell

_Soothes and heals painful cuts and abrasions_ = Murtlap Essence


	3. Let’s Hold The Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets cockblocked, meets with the other Kings, and then makes a study group!

Hermione slowly wakes to the feeling of soft nipping of teeth on her neck. She blinks, looking down to see Daphne, eyes lidded heavy in a half-asleep state, and nibbling on her flesh. Smiling, she leans into Daphne’s touch, and the nips get harder. Hermione feels a flush of heat simmer in her, and Daphne opens her mouth wider, and her tongue prods insistently against Hermione’s throat.

A purr rumbles in her chest, and she rolls Daphne onto her back. The Beta squeals shrilly, her eyes snapping fully open with shock. Hermione licks her lips, and Daphne raises a hand to her own lips.

“I’m still dreaming, right?” The Beta asks huskily, a pretty flush blooming across her cheeks. Hermione purrs louder, and slowly lowers her weight on top of Daphne’s, pressing her into the sheets. Daphne’s eyes widen, and she squirms a little when Hermione stretches languidly.

Hermione rests her arms on either side of Daphne’s head, staring intently into brilliant grass-green eyes as her hair falls in curtains around the Beta’s face. Hermione’s body is so hot, and she tracks a bead of sweat glistening along Daphne’s neck. She’s not even emitting any pheromones and Daphne’s already panting heavily.

“Just kiss me Alfā.” Daphne orders, but her assertive tone is ruined by the breathiness of her words. Hermione smirks.

“As you wish, my Queen,” She drawls, and then she’s kissing Daphne.

* * *

The moment their mouths connect, it’s everything Daphne could have hoped for and more. Their first kiss was mortifying for her, and she can’t help comparing it to this one—Daphne gasps shrilly when Hermione’s tongue slips into her mouth. She grabs hold of the Alpha’s—actually Alfā’s—she’ll have to ask the story behind that—shoulders to anchor herself as the invading tongue conquers Daphne’s own tongue.

And then it impossibly swells and lengthens, coiling around her tongue and completely owning her mouth.

“_Ngh,_” Daphne gags as Hermione’s tongue presses against the back of her throat. Hermione growls, and it sends the vibrations all throughout Daphne’s body. She shudders as heat floods her system, and she presses her thighs together. Desperately, she hopes that Hermione can’t smell her, but then she remembers that the Alfā is a _Veela_.

Hermione inhales deeply, and her eyes turn a snake red color. Daphne whimpers hotly, and the Alfā’s hands start moving. One fists in Daphne’s hair, and the other slips behind her, stroking Daphne’s lower back. She practically melts under Hermione’s dominance, and endorphins rush to her head when a leg wedges between hers. It’s tow curling.

Hermione growls as Daphne wriggles around, and she grinds down on the Alfā’s thigh, eliciting a rough hair jerk. Daphne groans around the obscene amount of tongue, and—a textbook smacks Hermione’s head.

* * *

Hermione releases Daphne, rearing up with an enraged roar, and her eyes morphing goat green. Pansy pales, but she clenches her fists.

“Keep it in you trousers, I don’t want to smell sex in the dorm.” The Alpha orders, and storms out. Growling, Hermione gnashes her teeth. A tiny shuffle in the corner of the dorm draws her attention to Beta Tracey and Millicent. The latter is blushing hard, while Beta Tracey gives her a thumbs up.

Sighing, Hermione rubs her head, healing the still forming bruise that’s going to form. Daphne wriggles out from under her, and Hermione lifts her weight up, allowing the Beta more room to pull her legs to her chest. She’s likewise still flushed, but their heated moment is gone.

“Go get ’em tiger!” Beta Tracey crows, laughing as she tugs a flustered Millicent from the dorm.

“So . . . I wasn’t dreaming . . . When I asked you to get in bed with me,” Daphne mutters shyly, and Hermione smiles.

“Nope,” She says, morphing her tongue back to normal size.

“I suppose this time is as good as any to tell you I’m also a Metamorphmagus.” Hermione says, leaning forwards to tuck a strand of hair behind Daphne’s ear. The Beta just shrugs, although she can’t hide her shiver.

“Really, why am I not surprised? You really have it all. Honestly, I kinda expect you to find a long lost twin or say you’re immortal.” Daphne drawls, and Hermione chuckles.

“That would be something, now, how about you and I get ready for our Hogsmeade meeting?” Hermione says, holding out her hand. Daphne takes it with a smile, and many kisses and lingering touches later, they finally make their way to Hogsmeade.

* * *

Hermione, Daphne, and Beta Tracey are the first ones at a reserved table in the Three Broomsticks. They don’t have to wait long, for Susan, Hannah, and Beta Sally-Anne Perks arrive, taking the three seats for the Hufflepuff royalty. A little behind them, Ginny, Parvati, and Neville take the Gryffindor seats. Padma, Omega Sue Li, and Beta Lisa Turpin are the last to arrive.

Beta Tracey orders Butterbeers for them all, and once Madam Rosmerta delivers them, Susan is the first to speak.

“King of Slytherin, we of Hufflepuff wonder why you called this meeting. There hasn’t been a Council of Kings since last reign of the Black Kings.” The Alpha says, taking a sip of her Butterbeer.

“Wasn’t that nineteen-sixty-nine?” Parvati mutters to Neville, and Padma nods to her twin.

“We of Ravenclaw wonder if it has to do with the ‘Pink Toad’ issue.” Padma says, and Ginny snorts.

“Well, we of Gryffindor would like the other Kings shut up long enough for the King of Slytherin to speak.”

Hermione flashes a quick smile at Ginny for her support, and then speaks.

“I want to form a inter-House study group.” She says, and the others lean in, waiting for more.

“Wait, that’s it?” Padma frowns, staring at Hermione suspiciously. Susan looks contemplative, while Ginny is torn between boredom and intrigue.

“That’s it.” Hermione confirms.

“What will we be learning?”

“Why involve the other Houses then?”

Susan and Padma ask at the same time.

“We’ll be learning the magic that the Pink Toad won’t teach us and more. Now as for involving the other Houses, the Hat warned us that we needed to be united in these coming times,” Daphne answers, and the three other Kings look at each other.

“Well, as long as there’s dueling, we of Gryffindor are okay with this study group.” Ginny drawls, and Parvati rolls her eyes good naturally. Susan shares a look with her Queen and Beta.

“We of Hufflepuff are likewise in favor of forming this group, however we only ask that we not gather in the Chamber of Secrets.” Susan says, and Hermione nods.

“I agree to your terms.”

“What about you King of Ravenclaw?” Ginny says, and Padma glances at Parvati. Hermione watches, as the twins speak with their eyes. Sighing, Padma turns to Hermione.

“We of Ravenclaw agree as well, and we ask that in terms of leadership, all of the Kings here shall share that position.” She says, and Sally-Anne nods.

“Alright. Now, we should move into the back room I reserved, there will be more of us coming.” Hermione says, standing with her Butterbeer. The other three House royals; except Neville; blink in shock.

“Hold up—there’s already a meeting?” Ginny exclaims, and Daphne nods, standing as well.

“Yes. We extended our invite to everyone, not just us royals.”

Neville smiles at that.

“I knew I heard the Weasley twins spreading some new rumor,” He says, and the rest of them stand. Moving into the back room that Hermione spoke of, Neville smiles conspiringly at her. Her _Revol Key_ heat-flashes, and she clenches her fingers.

_Thanks for giving me a heads up,_ — Neville.

_Any time,_ — Hermione.

_Oi—I helped too Lurch!_ — Harold.

_Oh, did you? I wasn’t aware,_ — Hermione.

_Har har, I live for your sarcasm._ — Harold.

_My Liege-Lady, I have a friend I want you to formally meet._ — Luna.

Hermione’s _Revol Key_ links off, and Luna walks through the door.

“Lovegood?” Padma squawks, and the rest of them stare wide eyed. The Gamma is dressed in a fluffy, reindeer costume complete with a red nose, very realistically sharp antlers, and a very confused Omega Tracey hanging on her arm. Luna simply smiles dreamily at them all.

“I just found discovered the legend of Gamma Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer from Lord Potter, and I thought it would be the best if I came as her.” Luna says dreamily, and Sally-Anne coughs.

“Uh, Rudolph was male,” She says.

“Of course.” Luna says airily.

“Um, Luna, we’re going to block the doorway soon,” Omega Tracey says nervously, and Luna skips over to a few tables Madam Rosmerta set up. Having bonded a little over the shared quirkiness of Luna, Hermione, Susan, Padma, and Ginny stand at the front of the room while their Queen’s and Beta’s take seats at a single table.

Gradually, more students pour in, all the Houses intermingling hesitantly. However, the last person to walk through the door is not a student. Everyone gawks at the newcomer, and even Hermione’s startled.

“I’m not raining down on your parade by being here, am I?” Omega Leilaki Clearwind drawls, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

“Leilaki?” Hermione asks in disbelief, and all heads swivel to her. The Werewolf waves at her, a smirk settling on her features. She’s not even trying to blend in with the Wizarding folk, since she’s wearing a loose shirt, baggy shorts, and a small, thin cloak over her shoulders in the cold weather.

“Who else would Tarow send to check up on you? She’s too busy with the Pack, you know how things are,” The Werewolf says, and Hermione huffs.

“Yes, but why would she send you?”

“Excuse me—sorry to interrupt, but who the bloody hell are you?” Ron asks, and Leilaki draws herself up tall.

“I am Epsilon-Omega Leilaki Clearwind of Greyback, half-sister of Alfā of all Werewolves Delta-Alfā Tarow Greyback, and blood yearling of Epsilon-Omega Lissa Clearwind of Greyback.” Leilaki boasts, and fear sinks into the gathered students. Hermione steps forwards, ready to defend Leilaki, but Ginny beats her to it.

“Oi you wankers! Wands down, now!” She roars in her Alpha voice, and most of the gathered students obey. Leilaki crosses her arms, rolling her eyes in an annoyed way.

“Any Gryffindor I see raise a wand against her, and you’ll have to deal with me!” Ginny continues, and Susan steps forwards.

“Do not let her surname define who she is, nor her status as a Werewolf. However, since you are not part of this meeting, I kindly ask you to quit the room until we are finished, Miss Greyback.” Susan says diplomatically, but Leilaki smirks.

“Naw, I’ll join.” Her statement causes a round of whispers to start up.

“That’s acceptable. How can we call ourselves inclusive if we can’t get over our own prejudice against other magical species?” Padma says.

“Then let me be the first to welcome you,” Hermione says, and Leilaki nods at her. Sauntering forwards, she sits next to Luna, looking her up and down curiously.

“Now,” Hermione says, commanding the attention of the room on her.

“Those of you here have been selected to become part of an inter-House study group. We shall teach ourselves what the Pink Toad—Umbridge—will not. If there are any you think would be interested in joining, ask us first and we shall vet them in.” Hermione says.

“This is not a social group fighting for justice, this is a study group to _learn_.” Susan says.

“We will have to be discreet if we don’t want Umbridge to catch onto us and possibly shut us down.” Padma says, and there are nods at this.

“We will meet in a safe practice place and in times that fit for our Quidditch players—” Ginny starts, but Beta Dennis Creevey interrupts her.

“Why did the Ministry hire _her?_” He blurts from his seat next to his older brother. Ginny glares at him.

“The Ministry believe Dumbledore is training us to be his army, Dennis.” Omega Katie Bell snorts, and Hermione nods.

“Well it makes sense, Riddle already has ≠ an army of Heliopaths.” Luna says ≠ dreamily. There’s an awkward pause with the other students looking at each other. Leilaki pokes an antler tine, and yelps when said tine makes a swipe at her.

“Uh, what are those?” Omega Taziah Roani asks. She’s sitting next to Roseanne and Peter, happily swinging her legs off her chair.

≠ “They’re spirits of fire, a great tall flaming creature that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of—” Luna starts.

“They don’t exist, ≠ Taz,” Beta Zacharias Smith laughs. Hermione scowls at the Hufflepuff.

“Zacharias, enough.” Susan barks, but the Beta is on a roll.

“But seriously, ≠ where’s the _proof_ of that Looney Lovegood’s right?” He fires back, and Hermione’s eye twitches, her Thrall slamming into the boy. He flails for a moment, his chair almost tipping backwards, before she yanks him back onto all four legs. Everyone looks to her, eyes wide.

Susan strides forwards, releasing angry Alpha pheromones. The students closest to her lean away, submitting to her dominance. Zacharias himself whimpers, and immediately bares his throat.

“What a push over, I know younger Omega’s who can last longer than him,” Leilaki mutters, and Ginny shoots her a smile. The Werewolf Omega winks at Ginny, and interestingly enough a light dusting of red spread over her cheeks. Hermione raises an eyebrow at this, and even Parvati notices.

“I have never heard such disrespect from a member of my own House, Zacharias. Is this how you act whenever my back is turned? Is this how you represent the House of Hufflepuff? By petty name calling and fact shaming? It might behoove you to be more considerate of Lovegood’s feelings, for you never know how she might lash out.” Susan growls, laying her ire into Zacharias.

Hermione smirks, and she and Daphne share a smirk. Draco sneers at him, and even Pansy gives Zacharias a side-glare. Pansy’s mostly concerned about the fact that Luna Lovegood of all people escorted Omega Tracey and not her. The Alpha looks at her current companions; the rest of the Slytherin girls in her posse; and wonders why it hurts that Omega Tracey isn’t with her.

“I shall report this to Profressor Sprout, and she shall sort you out,” Susan shakes her head sadly as a gasp rings out from the Hufflepuffs.

“I am deeply ashamed of you Beta Zacharias Smith.” She says solemly, and it must be a Hufflepuff code, for the ones closest to him give Zacharias sympathetic glances. When Susan returns to the front of the room, Hermione speaks up.

“I have thought of where we can meet and instructions to get there, but first,” She snaps her fingers, and a long parchment and quill appears. Hermione’s, Daphne’s, and Beta Tracey’s names are already there.

“This is our non-disclosure agreement. It’s spelled so the signers are under magical oath to keep everything we do confidential, and a failsafe for any oathbreaker.” Hermione says, passing it to the other Kings first. When the last of the Hogwarts royalty have signed, everyone clamors to get into a line.

Leilaki gets to be first by virtue that no one is brave enough to cut in front of her. Draco is next, and down the line, Omega Lavender Brown mutters negative something about him. As he walks back to his seat, he pauses next to her.

“I don’t care what you think of me, and for the record, I actually do have feelingss. I ssimply don’t wear mine on my ssleave.” He says, and Harry nods.

“We’re all in this together, or we’re not.” The Alpha says, and Lavender shuts her mouth. After everyone signs, they’re free to leave. Hermione, the other Kings, and a few others stay to admire the long list of names.

_Alpha Hermione Mendonica_

_Beta Daphne Greengrass_

_Beta Tracey Nettlebed_

_Alpha Susan Bones_

_Omega Hannah Abbott_

_Beta Sally-Anne Perks_

_Alpha Padma Patil_

_Omega Sue Li_

_Beta Lisa Turpin_

_Alpha Ginny Weasley_

_Beta Parvati Patil_

_Omega Neville Longbottom_

_Omega Leilaki Clearwind of Greyback_

_Alpha Draco Malfoy_

_Gamma Luna Lovegood_

_Omega Tracey Davis_

_Beta Harold Hawking_

_Alpha Roseanne Silvertongue_

_Omega Taziah Roani_

_Alpha Peter Silvertongue_

_Alpha Theodore Nott_

_Omega Blaise Zabini_

_Omega Lavender Brown_

_Beta Vincent Crabbe_

_Omega Katie Bell_

_Beta Gregory Goyle_

_Beta Miles Bletchley_

_Alpha Astoria Greengrass_

_Alpha Pansy Parkinson_

_Alpha Flora Carrow_

_Alpha Hestia Carrow_

_Alpha Harry Potter_

_Beta Ron Weasley_

_Beta Millicent Bulstrode_

_Beta Lucian Bole_

_Beta Colin Creevey_

_Beta Denis Creevey_

_Alpha Scwigly Urquhart_

_Alpha Graham Montague_

_Alpha Terrence Higgs_

_Alpha Fred Weasley_

_Alpha George Weasley_

_Alpha Lee Jordan_

_Beta Alicia Spinnet_

_Omega Conner Moon_

_Beta Justin Finch-Fletchley_

_Beta Mandy Brocklehurst_

_Alpha Morag MacDougal_

_Omega Silvi Avery_

_Beta Reen Holfred_

_Beta Meghan Jones_

_Alpha Seamus Finnigan_

_Beta Dean Thomas_

_Omega Cho Chang_

_Beta Stacy Fawcett_

_Beta Higgs Summers_

_Alpha Jane Court_

_Alpha James Hill_

_Beta Ernie Macmillan_

_Beta Ryan Rinaman_

_Beta Zacharias Smith_

_Omega Marietta Edgecombe_

_Beta Terry Boot_

_Beta Michael Corner_

_Alpha Malcolm Preece_

_Omega Herbert Fleet_

“Merlin, Sixty-seven names,” Hannah says in awe.

“Did you notice that Mr. Corner was staring at Miss Weasley?” Luna says dreamily, and Leilaki snaps her head up at that.

“_What?_” She barks, and Ginny’s eyes go wide when the Werewolf surges towards her. In the chaos of Leilaki interrogating a flustered Ginny, Luna pulls Hermione to the side.

“My Liege-Lady, this is Miss Davis. She’s a master guide in sensing auras.” Luna says dreamily, and Omega Tracey blushes.

“Luna’s just exaggerating, she’s helped me not become too overwhelmed,” The Omega stammers, and Hermione smiles gently at her.

“Well, if Luna say’s you’re good, then I believe her. She’s a great judge of character,” Hermione says, and Omega Tracey blushes harder.

“We must be off, my Liege-Lady, I have to help Mr. Claus drive his slay,” Luna says, hooking her arm around Omega Tracey’s.

“Who’s Santa?” The Omega asks, and Luna shrugs.

“He’s a High Elf who delivers presents to Muggle children with his loyal reindeer Familars,” Luna says, and she leads the still confused Omega Tracey away.

* * *

The next morning, walking down the stairs from the dorms, Hermione sees a large crowd of First years in front the Common Room notice board. They part when they see Hermione and her dorm mates. There’s only one parchment on the board, signed by the self-appointed High Inquisitor herself.

Hermione sneers at the ban of school groups, and stalks out of the Common Room. Daphne and Beta Tracey fall into step besides her.

≠ “This isn’t a coincidence, ≠ she found out somehow.” Daphne mutters.

“Someone snitched!” Beta Tracey mutters back.

“No one did.” Hermione growls, and they look at her slightly confused, but take her word for it. They walk to their table, the whole school talking about Decree Twenty-four.

“Sshe included Quidditch in that Decree, but I got it ssorted out, Sslytherin’ss good to go.” Draco says to the boys around him. Later, on her way into History of Magic class, Hermione halts when Err’sh smashes through a window in front of her. Students around her shriek, and Hermione darts forwards, catching her Familiar before he crashes into the stone floor.

“Err’sh?!” She gasps, holding onto him tight. His feathers are in complete disarray, and the letter tied to his leg has a scratch mark on it. Tucking it into her pocket, Err’sh keeps clacks his beak, too furious to speak.

Worry flares in Hermione, and she glances at Daphne. The Beta nods, and starts crowd control. Using Daphne’s distraction, Hermione slips away to Madam Pomfrey.

* * *

“Your Familiar will be alright,” The Omega woman says gently as she brushes Err’sh’s feathers clean. Hermione nods, stroking his head calmingly. When Madam Pomfrey leaves, Err’sh begins his tale.

*I was flying out around the Dark Forest, when I heard something call for you, Hermione Cage-Breaker. So I flew down, careful not to be seen, but it was a Veela—one bearing the Mendonica crest.*

*What? Who?* She tweets, but Err’sh shakes his head.

*I don’t know, but she said her name was Vyvian,*

Hermione gasps, remembering her as Eto’s mysterious best friend.

*Then what happened?*

Err’sh clacks his beak angrily.

*That Pink Toad! She’s been checking all the owl’s mail! She tried to get me, but I got the Thestrals to mess with her, while I flew straight to you!* Hermione takes the letter, opening it.

_ **My Little Omen,** _

_ **I have received your letter, although it arrived with an amateur sensory charm on it. I swear to you that I shall do anything to avenge your daughter. As you read this, Vyvian will have seized the murderess’ Vaults, and I will be arriving at Beauxbatons with a flock of my Wind Whisperers.** _

_ **While I may be the one to arrest her, cage her, and question her, ultimately her fate lays in your hands. I suggest you do not squander it in the moral sense of justice.** _

_ **I apologize for not replying sooner, but much had to be done to prepare for this. I have already spoken with the Matriarch, and we shall send a few trained Wind Whisperers to the Order of the Phoenix to collect Fleur.** _

_ **And yes, I do know about that organization. They were still running around like headless chickens back in my day, and I can only wish that if you do decide to join, you do not behave like so.** _

_ **Now, as for your amphibian problem, I am not concerned. I was having tea with Minister Riddle when its letter boasting of its actions came. He turned the most amusing shade of vermillion, and I have no doubt that he sent a cutting reply back. I have also sent a little gift as well.** _

_ **However, as you expressed your distaste for the creature, I shall turn a blind eye to however you decide to dispose of it.** _

_ **Sincerely,** _

_ **Phantom of the Opera** _


	4. Hogwarts' Guardians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to get roll'n for the royal study group!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so if there are those who don't like tattoos, I get that,
> 
> HOWEVER!
> 
> These magical tats are a little less harmful to the body.
> 
> (I chose a tattoo over a Galleon b/c you can lose coins easily)

Hermione has to hold her laughter as she watches the Pink Toad trying to goad Professor Snape with her insensitive questions. She’s circling around him, trying to be intimidating, but it just looks like a child seeking attention from a stone pillar. When she leaves in a huff, Hermione waves two fingers at the door.

The whole class erupt in laughter when the heavy door slams on the Pink Toad’s rear, sending her flying into the hall. Even Professor Snape’s mouth twitches.

* * *

In the Common Room, the Slytherins in the study group are all working on their homework. Err’sh is in the middle of begging Astoria for food, when he whistles shrilly, staring at the fireplace. Everyone jumps, and Daphne almost falls off Hermione’s lap.

Blaise gasps, pointing at the fireplace. They all watch as a hand with chubby fingers and pink nail reaches out from the flames. Hermione slips her hand to her thigh, drawing her _Black Blade_. Aiming, she throws. The hand jerks away when the _Blade_ slices through flesh, slamming into the fire logs.

Hermione curls her fingers, and the_ Blade_ spins back to her. She catches it by the hilt.

“Bloody hell, that was wicked,” Astoria breathes, hissing when Daphne swats her with her workbook. Draco, however, pales when he stares at the knife.

“She might figure out it was you,” Millicent stresses, but Hermione shakes her head, whipping the blood off on her robes, and sheathing the _Black Blade_.

“No evidence, no crime. She’d give away that she’d been searching the fireplaces, which she can’t do.”

“Not yet.” Theodore mutters.

* * *

On her bed, Hermione reads the letter from Fleur. After being taken back to France, she somehow convinced her Grandmother; the Matriarch; to let her stay in England and work in Gringotts. She’s one of the Goblin’s top Cursebreakers, as they tolerate her over any wizard or witch since she’s a Veela.

She also writes that Tyche has helped her gain some respect from the Goblins. Hermione suspects that’s because they know what would happen if they disrespected a companion of a Horned Serpent. Fleur also says that Bill Weasley has struck up an easy friendship with her, and he accepts that she’s not ready for a relationship with him.

Meanwhile, Hermione realizes that she doesn’t need the _Revol Keys_ or secret King meetings to get instructions out to the study group. She has Winky, and the House-Elf is overjoyed with her new tasks. She takes being the first Revol Elf very seriously, and constantly pops in to report the comings and goings of the members of the study group.

Now, standing in the Room of Requirement, Hermione and Winky inspect the spacious chamber. Cushions are spread out on the thin carpeted floor, soft light torches line the walls where bookshelves fulled of books for dueling and magic fill every shelf.The ceiling, specifically requested by Hermione, is a mimic of the sky above, the evening sky shining down on them.

“It’s time Winky,” Hermione says, and the Elf bows.

“Yes Mistress!” She squeaks, and pops away. Soon, the other sixty-six members arrive, in groups, all given the correct directions to the Room by Winky. Once the last one steps through the door, Winky shuts it, and Hermione wills it away. The others speak in low voices about the Room, marveling at it, and they all claim cushions.

Hermione, Susan, Padma, and Ginny sit in a semicircle in front of the group.

“Alright, first order of business: what should our name be?” Ginny asks, and immediately dozens of voices speak up. It takes a series of shrill whistles from Err’sh to quiet everyone down.

“How about we raise our hands before we speak,” Padma says, and Roseanne’s hand shoots up into the air.

“Yes Roseanne?” Hermione says, and the young Alpha looks nervous as everyone’s gazes turn to her, but she takes a deep breath.

“The Great Houses?” She says, and there are a few murmurs at that.

≠ “The Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?” ≠ Fred says.

“Oi! Raise your hand!” Ginny snaps, and Leilaki glares at Fred.

“Alpha male’s,” The Werewolf grumbles under her breath. Cho raises her hand, and Susan calls on her.

“What about ≠ the Defence Association?” ≠ The Omega says, a number of a students nod. Draco raises his hand, and Hermione calls on him.

“The Hogwartss’ Sscholarss?” He says, and most of the Slytherins nod to that. Luna raises her hand, and speaks when Padma calls on her.

“I think we should be Hogwarts’ Guardians.” Luna says airily, and a lot of agreement rises from the students.

“All in favor for Hogwarts’ Guardians then? H.G. for short?” Susan says, and Hermione has to stop herself from flinching, thinking of her old initials. All sixty-seven hands raise in the air, and Hermione holds her arm. Err’sh soars onto it, showing off his collar proudly Hermione taps the heart charm on his collar, and the NDA untransfigures.

Unrolling the parchment, Hermione writes _HOGWARTS’ GUARDIANS_ at the top, and then transfigures it back. The four Kings stand, prompting the rest of the H.G. do as well, and the Room banishes their cushions.

“We’ve decided that we’regoing to start with the basics,” Padma says, and Hermione nods.

“You may know the _Disarming Charm_, but not the way we want. Now pair up, wands at the ready.” Hermione orders, everyone scrambles for a partner. The Kings partner with their Queens, except for Ginny. As she was looking for Parvati, Lielaki accosts her. Ginny gulps as the Werewolf Omega woman smirks at her, and Hermione narrows her eyes.

Ginny is a fourteen year old girl, and Leilaki is at least twenty years old. Daphne follows her line of sight, and her eyes widen.

“What is she doing?” She hisses, and Hermione tilts her head.

“I’m going to find out,” She mutters, and Padma starts the lesson.

“As you all know, the charm is pronounced ‘_ex-pell-ee-are-muss_’. What you should know, is that the charm causes whatever your target is holding to fly away, and can knock out said target if used too forcefully.” Padma lectures. There are intrigued faces at this.

Hermione stalks over to Leilaki, jerking her head to the side of the room. The Werewolf huffs, but she obeys, leaving Ginny a flustered mess. The Room shrouds them in a light shadow, and no one notices them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Hermione asks softly. Lielaki narrows her eyes and crosses her arms.

“I’m not going to give her the Gift, if that’s what you’re insinuating.” She growls, insulted.

“I expect you all to at least know some of the Latin behind the spells we’ll be covering. The Latin root words for ‘_Expelliarmus_’, is the combination of _expello_, meaning ‘to expel’, and _arma_, meaning ‘weapon’, simply translating, ‘to expel weapon’.” Padma continues.

“Keep this in mind when you cast!” Susan calls out, and the Room is filled with the sounds of the cries of the charm, and the clattering of wands.

“I never thought you would do that, but Ginny is too young for you to play with.” Hermione growls back, and Leilaki tenses.

“You are at least five years younger than Alfā Tarow, and you didn’t care about that!”

“I’m a legal adult Leilaki! I can make such choices, but Ginny’s still a minor! Furthermore, she’s a member of my pack!” Hermione snarls, drawing herself up tall and Leilaki’s eyes go wide. She quickly lowers them, submitting to Hermione.

“But, she’s my . . .” Leilaki starts, but trails off as her eyes flick over to Ginny and Parvati. Worry trickles through Hermione at the Werewolf’s tone.

“Your what?” She whispers, and Leilaki lowers her head, shame mixed with frustration oozing from her.

“My Mate.”

* * *

Hermione’s still reeling from Leilaki’s admission days after the Werewolf admitted it. Leilaki’s also taken up residence in the Greenhouses, and Madam Sprout welcomed her with open arms, taking her on as an assistant of sorts. Hermione has also taken to checking up on Fleur more often via Tyche.

And it was at the Veela Alpha’s suggestion that Hermione discard the Galleon communication idea. With a little more research, and a quick check in with the other Kings, Hermione’s reveals her idea at the next H.G. meeting. Now, said H.G. meetings have switched around in no real pattern to squeeze in a time that avoids four different Quidditch practices, which is both annoying and useful.

Once everyone’s inside the Room of Requirement, Winky wills the door away.

“Listen up, we’re all get matching animal tattoos.” Hermione says without preamble. Everyone stares at her in shock, and then pandemonium erupts. Most are excited at the cool idea of having a tattoo, while others want to hear the rest of her idea.

“It will be small, on the inside of your casting hand’s wrist. When one of us Kings decide a new meeting, the date, time, and place will appear in the animal.” Hermione says.

“The H.G. Tattoo also has other purposes. If a fellow H.G. is in danger, it burns depending on the varying degree of danger. If rubbed, others can send magical support, or Apparate to the endangered member’s location. If pressed, you can send a burst of twelve word sentences, your animal name showing up under it whenyou do.” Susan says, and it seems to placate the older students’ worries.

“Also, when a whole lot of you are conversing publicly, your tattoo will swell to contain all the sentences inside it. If you wish to have a private conversation, you simply focus on a specific animal to send to, and then your message will appear around the animal.”

“Bloody hell, that’s brilliant,” Sue gasps. Hermione smirks, and she, Daphne, and Beta Tracey push up their sleeves to showing their H.G. Tattoos. Hermione has a Basilisk, Daphne has a Siberian Tiger, and Beta Tracey has a Honey Bee. Astoria squeals in excitement, and she grabs Daphne’s wrist to inspect the Tattoo.

Everyone clusters around them, each taking a moment to admire the Tattoos. Daphne’s Tiger preens under the attention.

“Let’s get the you all inked up first,” Hermione says to the other royals, unsheathing her wand. Ginny steps up first, offering her wright wrist. A hush grows when Hermione presses the tip of her wand against soft flesh. A whisper in the back of Hermione’s mind urges her to see how fare she can press until the skin breaks, and then go even further.

Mentally blocking such thoughts, Hermione traces a small circle on a vein under Ginny’s skin, silently chanting the curse. She purposefully withheld the detail that to execute her idea, she’ll need to use blood magic to link permanently with the H.G. member’s blood and magic.

_Custos Respirare-Coniungere Communia-Custos Loqueris-Coniungere Communia-Custos Audite-Coniungere Communia!_

Hermione keeps tracing the circle, coaxing her blood curse into being. Ginny winces, hissing between her teeth as an animal forms. When Hermione lifts her wand, there’s a snarling Nundu prowls in a tight circle. Ginny gasps, and her eyes flutters as she sways a little.

Parvati and Daphne help support her, and suddenly Ginny jerks.

“Oh,” She looks up, her eyes flicking between Hermione, Daphne, and Beta Tracey.

“I swear I can almost _feel_ you guys,” She says breathily, and Hermione smiles. Crooking a finger at Susan, Hermione waves her over.

“Let’s get the everyone inked up,” She says, and thirty minutes later, the whole H.G. are all connected.

* * *

Hermione rubs her eyes as she watches Ron miss another goal. It’s the first match of the season, and it’s Slytherin vs. Gryffindor. Unlike past years, with both teams in the H.G., there’s no high strung tension that results in hall fights, much to the confusion of the rest of the Hogwarts students.

Hermione sees Alicia rub her eyes in exasperation as Ron misses another shot. The game continues like that, and Slytherin soars high with a Forty-nil score. Hermione tries to keep her commentary neutral, but Ron’s pathetic Keeper skills is truly a test of will to not let a sarcastic comment slip out of her mouth.

“And Harry’s seen the Snitch!” Hermione yells, and Draco whirls. Both Alpha’s dive, and the rest of the game pauses to watch. Gregory seizes his chance, and whacks the Bludger at Harry. Both Seekers peel away, but Harry gets smacked off his broom, falling two meters to the ground.

“Bludger to the back!—Harry might need medical assistance,” Hermione says just as Draco thrusts his hand high. The Snitch glints brilliantly between his fingers.

“Draco caught the Snitch!—SLYTHERIN WINS ONE-HUNDRED-NINTEY-TEN TO ONE!” She calls out, the Slytherins leaping to their feet. Hermione stands, eyes narrowed as Draco lands by Harry. She’s too far to hear what they’re saying, but Harry nods to whatever Draco says. Madam Hooch hurries over, helping Harry onto a stretcher.

Hermione flicks her wand, cancels her _Amplifying Charm_, and then sheathes it. Heading down the stairs, the Pink Toad hurries down next to her, beady eyes blinking.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, dear child, but what _are_ you doing up in the _Staff_ Box?” She simpers.

“There’s always a student to commentate the matches,” Hermione replies. The Pink Toad smile gets bigger at that.

“Oh? Well, I don’t agree with that, as a Professor is much more qualified to announce and will have no basis,” She seems to be waiting for Hermione to say something. When Hermione doesn’t, the Pink Toad coughs, taking out a parchment from her pocket and waving it tauntingly at Hermione.

“Well, you see, as stated in ≠ ‘Educational Decree Number Twenty-five, the High Inquisitor with henceforth have supreme over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges, pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions, and removals of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members’.” ≠

The Pink Toad stows the parchment up again, and a mean snarl appears on her face.

“I remember your insubordination; twisting the story to fit your narrative! Well, no more, _Miss Mendonica_. Your name shall not protect you from _me,_ and I ought to owl your Mother about what a disappointment of a Pureblood you’re turning out to be!” The Alpha hisses, and Hermione can’t help herself. She starts howling with laughter.

Students passing them look at her curiously, and a few snicker at the Pink Toad’s reddening face.

“Stop it! Stop that right now! I’m removing you from Quidditch announcing! Detention for two weeks! Stop laughing at me! Detention for five weeks!” She screams shrilly, and it only sets Hermione off further. More students stop and chuckle at the sight, and some are laughing at the Pink Toad’s rumpled appearance.

“Umbridge, you detentions coincide with Miss Mendonica’s private Potions lessons,” Professor Snape drawls, descending from the stairs behind them. Hermione manages to stifle her laughter to hiccuping giggles.

“I’m afraid not Professor Snape, as High Inquisitor—”

“Madame Mendonica specifically ordered me to teach her daughter.” Professor Snape drawls, already bored with the conversation. The Pink Toad shuts her gob, and Hermione smirks at her.

“As I am not the announcer any more, I bequeath you the honor of stowing the microphone box.” Hermione chirps, and she continues down the stairs.

* * *

_The grass parts before her, the images darting to and fro. The snake is very small, so he doesn’t want to be caught out in the open like this. He’s by Hagrid’s hut, hiding amongst pumpkins. The images move up over a pumpkin and onto a grimy window sill. The images zoom in closer to the window, peering through it. Hermione can see hazy but recognizable shapes._

_Inside, Harry, Ron, and Neville are speaking with Hagrid. He’s got a big slab of meat on his face. Hermione feels the snake’s hunger at the sight of the meat. She can’t hear much, but she does hear the word “giants”. Hagrid must be telling the boys of his disappearance. Hermione also hears the word “Gurg”, which she knows means “chief” in the Giant’s tongue._

_So Hagrid’s been with his kin, but doing what? A knocking sound silences them, and the Pink Toard walks in, and Hermione hisses at her. The snake hisses as well. Fortunately the boys hide themselves under Harry’s Invisibility Cloak, while the Pink Toad speaks to Hagrid. Hermione knows that the Pink Toad is threatening him with inspection, not that Hagrid is smart enough to take her seriously._

_When she leaves, suddenly Neville appears at the window, startling the snake. It jerks, falling off the ledge, the images blurring. Then the snake is off into the forest, diving under leaves._

* * *

Hermione snaps open her eyes, panting. Err’sh whistles softly above her, and he preens her hair. Daphne stirs a little in Hermione’s arms, pushing her face deeper into Hermione’s cleavage. Once more, the Beta must be dreaming, since she’s never this bold when she’s awake.

Err’sh nudges her, and lifts his leg to show a letter attached to it. Hermione yawns, but unravels it. Morphing her eyes into a cat’s, she opens the letter, and a piece of jewelry falls onto her face.

_ **My Dear Friend,** _

_ **News surprisingly comes very slowly to Gringotts, and we’re only now officially learning about the Evil Bitch’s rise in power. I know you can protect yourself and anyone you take on, but to ease my own worries, I’ve sent you this necklace.** _

_ **It sends little pulses of protective magic over the skin, warding against stronger curses, jinxes, and spells. The glass is unbreakable, and it won’t ever get dirty. It also requires a single drop of blood to activate it.** _

_ **It’s been passed down from father to son on my Papa’s family, but I feel it’s purpose shall fit better with you.** _

_ **Love,** _

_ **Your Light** _

_ **P.S. the necklace changes names for each new owner, it was Ocean’s Song for me. What does it say for you?** _

Hermione holds up the necklace. It’s a small, smooth glass, and shaped like a tear drop on silver chain necklace. Inside the glass, old, stagnant blood sways. Fleur’s blood. Hermione turn the teardrop over, and engraved in fine script are the words: _Violet Eyes_. Morphing her nail, she pricks herself, and presses _Violet Eyes_ on it.

Hermione’s blood swallows Fleur’s, and it swirls brightly inside the glass.

* * *

The H.G. meetings are a balm on Hermione’s stressful school hours. After a disastrous Care of Magical Creatures class with Thestrals—they weren’t the problem, the Pink Toad was—Hermione heads to the Room of Requirement. Since Hermione’s sharing the teaching load with the other Kings, things run more smoothly.

Currently, they’re on simple, defensive dueling magic, but with the holidays coming up, the H.G. meetings will be put on hold. In the last meeting before everyone went off for the holidays, Taziah clings to Hermione’s leg, begging her to produce her Patronus. Roseanne looks gobsmacked at Taziah’s behavior, while Peter laughs.

Hermione sighs good naturally, and ruffles the young Omega’s hair.

“Just this once,” She says, and summons her Ancient Chimoretis Patronus. The H.G. stop whatever they were doing and stare in awe as Hermione’s Patronus emits a calming, safe, feeling. Waving her hand, Hermione releases the magic.

“Not everyone can think of their happiest memory, so you will have to rely on a more protective emotion.” Hermione says, and excited whispers start up.

“Don’t slack off during break, practice what you’ve learned!” Padma adds, and there’s a collective round of consent, but most of the group are discussing what their breaks will be like. Hermione stays behind to clean up, shooing away Susan and Hannah who try to help. Soon, it’s only her and a few others.

Hermione walks by a Daphne checking her wand movement in the mirror with Luna, when her feet stick to the floor. Jerking to a halt, Hermione grabs Daphne’s shoulder for support, and the Beta jumps.

“Mistletoe.” Luna points up, and Daphne gasps.

“Keep still,” Hermione says, and cups Daphne’s face. The Beta blushes as Hermione plants a loving, open mouthed kiss on Daphne’s lips. Swiping Daphne’s bottom lip, she releases the Beta, turning to Luna. The Gamma doesn’t waver, and she guides Hermione down for a deep, lingering kiss.

After a minute of gently making out, Hermione leans back, her cheeks uncharacteristically red. Daphne’s got a sour look on her face, but then Luna turns to her. The Gamma surprises Hermione and the few H.G. members left when she grabs the back of Daphne’s neck and yanks her forwards.

A familiar heat unfurls in Hermione’s gut at the sight of Luna utterly dominating Daphne, and the Gamma’s other hand fists in the Beta’s hair. Hermione wets her lips, her gaze unwavering from the hidden aggression coiled in Luna’s body. She’s power, and poor Daphne’s ensnared, whimpering, breathing heavily as a pretty flush accents her face.

It’s only when Hermione takes a step forwards that Luna releases Daphne, and at once the dreamy gentleness is present in Luna’s being. Hermione blinks at the dramatic shift, and Luna transitions her hands to Daphne’s in a comforting, loving way. Hermione blinks again, and Daphne struggles to regain her breath.

“I apologize, I really don’t want you to hurt me, Lady Greengrass,” Luna says dreamily, and it occurs to Hermione that the Gamma might be the most dangerous thing she’s ever encountered.

— . —

_Expelliarmus_ = Disarming Charm 2x

_Custos Respirare-Coniungere Communia-Custos Loqueris-Coniungere Communia-Custos Audite-Coniungere Communia!_ = H.G. Tattoo Blood Curse-Protean Charm Combo (Latin: Guardian breathe-Connect Common-Guardian Loqueris-Connect Common-Guardian Listen!)

_Sonorus_ = Amplifying Charm


	5. Blood Is Thicker Than Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many things are revealed at St. Mungos!

_She’s slithering between metal bars, and the snake descends down. Hermione is in the same place as before. The images move through the empty halls, tasting the cold air. But then the snake pauses, and Hermione can almost smell the pumping blood. The snake slithers forwards, and turns her head to the left. The door is there, but in front of it, is a wizard. His slow breathing pattern indicates he’s sleeping._

_A tongue flicks out slowly, tasting his scent. The snake hesitates, and slowly turns to leave, but the wizard stirs. With a jolt, Hermione realizes it’s Arthur. The snake looks up as Arthur jumps, his eyes and wand aimed at the snake. He towers over her, as he sends a spell towards the snake, filling the images with red light. But the spell fails, and the snake rise up furiously, launching herself at Arthur._

_Hermione can only see flesh and blood, the images whipping from above Arthur to on his neck. Hermione can hear his cries, and pained yells echo off the halls, but no one comes. She can even taste a phantom smear of blood coating her tongue. Slowly, the snake rises again, looking down at the convulsing Arthur._

_Hermione tilts her head at the sight, the thought of abstract art crossing her mind. The snake likewise tilts its head, then puts her head in the bag attached to it._

* * *

Hermione wakes in a strange bed, and she panics for a second. She blinks, and her hysteria vanishes as she remembers she’s in her own bed at the Mendonica Palace for Yule break. She came because Eto requested it, and so she had to suffer through her rut alone. Sitting up, Hermione rubs her eyes, and she feels a tug on her magic.

‡_Sssroosss-Sssueensss-Sssirasss [Brood-Queen-Mother], are you alright?!_‡ Tyche appears on top of Hermione, and she squawks when the Horned Serpent’s bulk crushes the breath out of her.

‡_Oh, sssorry Sssroosss-Sssueensss-Sssirasss [Brood-Queen-Mother], I forgot my sssize,_‡ Tyche hisses, slithering off Hermione. Her Familiar is now large enough to wrap around Hermione’s neck loosely twice.

‡_It’sss okay—wait, what about Fleur?_‡ Hermione hisses, and Tyche looks a little guilty.

‡_I misssssed you . . . And Fleur wasss sssleeping . . . Ssso,_‡ She hisses, and Hermione softens.

‡_Oh Tyche, come here beautiful,_‡ Hermione hisses, and Tyche launches herself at Hermione. The Horned Serpent winds around Hermione, and she strokes her Familiar’s coils, stroking Tyche’s head. Err’sh yawns, and he ruffles his feathers as he wakes.

*Why have you gotten fatter?* He whistles softly. Tyche rears her head back, hissing fiercely in righteous anger.

‡_Exxxcussse me! I am a growing Horned Ssserpent!_‡

Err’sh rolls his eyes.

*Anyway, Hermione Cage-Breaker, what happened in your vision?* He whistles, and Hermione thinks hard. Then she takes a breath, and closes her eyes.

* * *

Tyche wraps herself more comfortably around Professor Snape’s arms as he opens the door to Dumbledore’s office. The old Alpha raises an eyebrow at Tyche, and then his twinkling blue eyes flick up to Professor Snape.

“Severus, what brings you here with Miss Mendonica’s pet?” Dumbledore asks, and Tyche cinches around Professor Snape’s arms in barely restrained anger. To his credit, Professor Snape doesn’t react.

“Arthur Weasley has been attacked.” He drawls, bored. Dumbledore straightens, and the twinkling in his eyes disappears. The old Alpha turns to speak with two portraits of past Headmasters, and Tyche looks up at them. Hermione recognizes them as Headmaster Everard and Headmistress Dilys.

The Alpha’s were so popular that they have portraits in the Ministry. Hermione also notices that all the Headmasters’ in their portraits feign sleep, but they’re all observing the meeting.

Dumbledore commands the two Headmasters to sound the alarm, and as they move to their other portraits, Dumbledore strokes Fawkes, murmuring a code phrase to the Phoenix. Fawkes looks through Tyche to Hermione, then disappears in a flash of fire. Seconds later, Headmaster Everard comes back, quickly reporting that he saw Aurors carrying Arthur’s body up.

Hermione feels relieved. She’s slowly come to think of the Weasley’s as weird eccentric cousins, which they technically are. Dumbledore conjures a corporeal Phoenix Patronus, and it flies out the window. He then turns to another portrait.

≠ “Phineas!” ≠ Dumbledore calls out to a “sleeping” portrait, the portrait opening his eyes, staring at Tyche. He’s Hermione’s Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandfather.

≠ “I need you to visit your other portrait again, Phineas.” ≠ Dumbledore says, and the portrait sighs with a reedy voice.

“There might not be a portrait to return to, ≠ he may well have destroyed my picture by now, he’s done most of the family—”

“Sirius knows not to destroy your portrait. You are to give him the message that Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured, and that his wife and children will be arriving at his house shortly. Do you understand?”

“Arthur Weasley, injured, wife and children are coming to stay, got it.” ≠ He slips from his portrait, and in a beat after he leaves, the door opens to reveal Professor McGonagall, Ginny, Fred, George, Ron, and Harry. All of them look confused, and also a little frightened. Ginny stares at Tyche, and the Horned Serpent waves her tail at the Alpha.

Phineas returns, drawling that he told Black. A Phoenix feather appears on Dumbledore’s desk, and he quickly turns it into a Portkey while Professor McGonagall leaves to stall the Pink Toad.

“Quickly, before anyone else comes.” Dumbledore says, and the students gather around to touch the Portkey. Dumbledore looks up at Tyche, and for a brief second as they lock gazes, Hermione can suddenly see all the blood and souls of those the old Alpha had used to achieve his own goals. Tyche lowers her head menacingly, flicking her tongue.

If the eyes are a window to the soul, then Albus Dumbledore’s is just as black as Gellert Grindelwald’s.

* * *

Hermione snaps open her eyes as Tyche reappears on her bed.

‡_Careful Sssroosss-Sssueensss-Sssirasss [Brood-Queen-Mother], too much of thisss and—_‡ Tyche starts to hiss, but a migraine slams into Hermione.

‡_—you’ll get a headache,_‡ Tyche finishes sympathetically, and Err’sh shuffles closer to her.

*Sleep more, Hermione Cage-Breaker, it’ll get better,* He whistles, and brushes a wing over her face. Hermione yawns as Err’sh’s magic pulls at her, dragging her into sleep as he takes on some of her pain. The last thing she recalls is her door opening, and the tell-tale sound of heels clicking.

* * *

» . . . Up. Petite Présage [Little Omen], you have to wake up now,« Eto’s voice murmurs, and a warm hand strokes Hermione’s forehead. She grumbles, and a chuckle over her sounds.

»We must make haste to St. Mungos.« Eto says, and Hermione immediately wakes.

»Who are we meeting?« She asks, hurriedly getting ready. Tyche curls up in the warm spot left by Hermione, and Err’sh cracks open an eye. Eto settles on Hermione’s bed, idly watching her throw on some clothes with the assistance of Cobra.

»We are going to see Vyvian.« Eto says strangely, and Hermione slows. Turning to look at her mother, the Veela Alfā is staring at Hermione with a blank expression.

»What’s wrong with her?«

»There’s nothing wrong with her,« Eto automatically snaps, and a harsh flare of her Thrall making Hermione flinch. Eto immediately calms down, but Hermione realizes that her words held such a past anger that it tells of the frequent use of the objection. Hermione neutralizes her features, and nods.

»Okay, I’m ready,« She says, and Eto stands. Hermione walks over to Tyche, and strokes her head.

‡_Pleassse check back in with Fleur, I don’t want her to be alone, but feel free to come back to me whenever you wisssh,_‡ Hermione hisses, and Tyche nods before her forehead gem flashes white and she vanishes. Picking up Err’sh, Eto links their arms and they Side-Apparate away.

* * *

Upon entering the concealed entrance, of St. Mungos, Hermione notices Headmistress Dilys’ portrait. The portrait glances at Hermione, and she tilts her head towards the floor guide. Hermione reads it while Eto speaks with the Welcome Witch.

_≠ ARTIFACT ACCIDENTS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Ground Floor_

_(Cauldron explosion, wand backfiring, broom crashes, etc.)_

_CREATURE-INDUCED INJURIES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . First Floor_

_(Bites, stings, burns, embedded spines, etc.)_

_MAGICAL BUGS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Second Floor_

_(Contagious maladies, e.g., dragon pox, vanishing sickness, scrofungulus)_

_POTION AND PLANT POISONING . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Third Floor_

_(Rashes, regurgitation, uncontrollable giggling, etc.)_

_SPELL DAMAGE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Fourth Floor_

_(Unliftable jinxes, hexes, and incorrectly applied charms, etc.)_

_VISITOR’S TEAROOM AND HOSPITAL SHOP . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Fifth Floor_

_If you are unsure where to go, incapable of normal speech, or unable to remember why you are here, our Welcome Witch will be pleased to help._ ≠

Hermione and Eto make their way up to the Fourth floor, and Hermione notices that Eto gets tenser as they climb up the stairs. When they arrive, they check in with a Healer who leads them further into the hospital.

“She’s doing well, Madame Mendonica,” The Healer says, and opens a door to a room.

“Healer Châtillion, Miss Mendonica has guests,” The Healer says, and leaves them. Hermione perks up at the prospect of seeing Souci, and she enters the room first.

“**Marigold, it’s been a while, how’s—**” Hermione shuts up when she realizes that the Veela in front of her isn’t Souci. The Veela in Healer’s robes draws herself up stiffly, and her heterochromia eyes sweep up and down Hermione’s body. The Veela Alpha’s brilliant, flaming-red hair is pulled into a tight bun, and she tugs her Healer robes closer around her very curvy body.

One emerald-green right eye and one amber-black left eye stare at Hermione suspiciously.

“**Just who are you?**” The older version of Juin sneers.

* * *

»You still have terrible bedside manners I see.« Eto drawls, stepping around Hermione. The Veela Alpha’s nostrils flares, and anger tightens her features.

»_You!_« She hisses, and Hermione growls, taking a step in front of Eto protectively.

»Eto?« A voice calls out from behind a bed curtain, and the Veela Alpha freezes.

»I’m here Vyvian, and I even brought my daughter as you requested.« Eto says, ignoring the fuming Veela Alpha. Hermione watches her carefully, definitely recognizing Juin in her movements. A shadow suddenly moves behind the curtain.

»Oh wonderful! Vic, could you move the blasted cloth out of my way?« Vyvian asks, and Vic—Hermione assumes it’s a shortened nickname—begrudgingly obeys. At first, Hermione doesn’t know what she’s looking at, but then it clicks. Vyvian is Vic’s twin in every way, except her eye colors are switched. And, the skin above her left eye is melted as if from a great heat, sealing the sagging the eye shut.

Other than that, Hermione can’t see anything abnormal under the hospital gown. Vyvian’s eye looks up at Hermione, and smiles.

»Come closer, my eye isn’t what it used to be these days,« Vyvian says, and Hermione obeys. She passes by the stiff Vic, and settles on the hospital bed.

»Do you feel alright?« Hermione asks, but Vyvian waves a hand, and her right shoulder twitches.

»I have the best Healer in this whole place to check up on me—« Vyvian starts, but Vic interrupts her.

»Then let me finish!«

Eto and Vyvian both roll their eyes. Vic glowers at her twin, and then whirls on Eto.

»_You_ may stay—« She points a finger at Hermione. »—but _you_ are to leave this room, Rozanica knows what Vyv sees in you,« Vic growls scathingly at Eto, and Hermione’s a little shocked when the Veela Alfā reluctantly leaves the room. Vyvian sighs, annoyed with her twin. Vic seems to relax a little without Eto in the tiny hospital room.

“**What’s your name?**” Vic asks aloud in French as she starts rubbing her Thrall over Vyvian’s back.

“**Alfā Hermione Eto Mendonica.**” Hermione says, sensing that speaking the honest truth will make the Veela Alpha trust her more. Vic and Vyvian exchange a tense look, speaking in their twin bond.

“**Do you know who we are?**” Vyvian asks.

“**You’re Eto’s best friend, maybe part of her flock, you have a high clearance at your work;The Witching Hours, French Hospital; you most likely work on the fourth floor, and you call Eto ‘Fem’ for some reason,**” Hermione says, and Vyvian smiles at this. Hermione looks over to Vic.

“**You look like an older Juin, and apparently you’re Vyvian’s twin, but you work here in Britain. Although I don’t understand that if you married into the Châtillion why you’d do so. You also dislike my mother, but she respects you enough to listen to what you say.**” Hermione deduces, and Vic releases a big sigh.

“**Of course she didn’t tell you anything, paranoid pigeon,**” Vic rubs her eyes, then turns to working her Thrall more into Vyvian’s back. The one-eyed Veela purrs in satisfaction, twisting to lie on her stomach on her bed.

»Take a seat, Hermione, and I’ll tell you who we are.« Vic orders, and Hermione obeys.

* * *

Vicencta and Vyvian Mendonica lived a simple life. They went to Beauxbatons, made friends and rivals, graduated, got jobs at the **Heures de Sorcière, Hôpital Français** [The Witching Hours, French Hospital], and visited their cousins every once in a while. “Cousins” being a relatively loose term for their extended family.

They were not part of the main Mendonica bloodline, but they’re more like distant fifth cousins. Their story really begins when Vyvian heard an anguished feminine scream in the midst of her shopping. She had dumped her things, rushed towards the sound, and found a Veela in her True-Veela form curled in a ball behind a dumpster.

Greatly concerned, Vyvian Side-Apparated them to her apartment that she shared with Vicencta. The older twin was the one to recognize the Veela woman for who she was; Heiress Alfā Etoilnaiphas Rotanilmy Mendonica.

* * *

»What? Wait, back up, Eto was hiding behind a _dumpster?_« Hermione exclaims, and Vicencta narrows her eyes. She’s finished massaging Vyvian’s back, and the Veela Alpha was dozing lightly.

»Yes, I just said that, and if you allow me to _continue_, I’ll tell you why.« Vicencta snaps, and Hermione shuts up.

»Anyway, we knew we had to do _something_ with her . . .«

* * *

Vyvian was better at getting the Heiress to eat, even though the Veela Alfā was stubborn enough to starve herself. Vicencta, well, she actually wasn’t great with her new patient, and Vyvian constantly commented on her lack of politeness and subtlety. Vicencta couldn’t understand why Vyvian was so enamored with the Heiress, as they had never crossed paths before.

Granted, they _had_ gone to Beauxbatons at the same time, but the Heiress was a year above them and she flew with the more popular flocks.

“**Just because you’re nice to her now doesn’t mean she’ll be the same.**” Vicencta said, and Vyvian had given her a scathing look.

“**I’m not being nice to raise our social standing Vic,**”

“**Then _why?_ You’re acting like a new mother hen!**” Vicencta growled, and Vyvian sighed. They were no spring chickens ready to take care of an unresponsive adult. The Heiress was watching them with blank eyes.

“**If someone is in pain, it is our sacred duty as Healers to heal them, no matter who they are, or what they have or will do.**” Vyvian whispered. That settled the conversation, and the Heiress stayed with them for a year before life started to return to her being. Vicencta had come home angry and frustrated.

She had just lost two patients in a row, and had to inform the families. Stomping into the kitchen, she froze when she saw the Heiress making tea. The Veela Alfā’s movements were slow, almost sleepily so. As Vicencta stared, wide eyed, the Heiress turned and silently offered her a cup.

Vicencta took it, and that was when the greatest friendship was born.

* * *

»It wasn’t the greatest.« Vicencta huffs, but Vyvian smirks.

»Well, it is,« The Veela Alpha turns to Hermione. »I think they both liked each other but refused to admit it. It only took four decades for them to realize it.« Vyvian says slyly, and Vicencta whacks her twin lightly on the shoulder.

»Whose telling this story, you or me?« She grouches, and Vyvian laughs, waving for Vicencta to continue. The more aggressive twin huffs.

»As I thought, so four years later . . .«

* * *

It wasn’t a surprise when Etoilnaiphas was the first to make a move. She asked the twin’s mother to court Vicencta properly, and their mother agreed. The next four years was the most extravagant in Vicencta and Vyvian’s lives. For forty years, they had been marginally accepted by the rest of Etoilnaiphas’ flock, seen as Healer charity cases that the Heiress picked up.

However, with the new relation of Vicencta’s breeding partner status, that all changed. They were welcomed by the two-faced Veela, but they ignored that. It was also the most challenging, because everyone was waiting for Etoilnaiphas’ rut. When it did come, Vicencta had never realized how lonely she was until she had the Heiress in her arms.

Soon, a healthy baby Alpha girl was born, and the Cadre rejoiced. The young Heiress was named after the color of her hair; Souci; Marigold. Souci was the pride and joy of Vicencta and Etoilnaiphas, and everything was wonderful. Fast forward six years, and the Etoilnaiphas’ spare was born.

Baby Alpha Juin came out screaming, and she never did stop screaming. Vyvian had named her, saying that the baby’s constant wails reminded her of the nightly sounds of June Bugs. Only Souci had the ability to make Juin quiet down and everyone in the Mendonica Palace could sleep soundly.

Another four year pass, and Souci and Juin are flying around the Mendonica Palace, causing a nuisance of themselves. Souci was visiting for a day, taking a much wanted break from her Beauxbatons preliminary year life. It was on that night, that Vicencta gave birth for the third and last time. Vyvian had paled when she held the child, and Vicencta’s maternal instinct went off.

»He’s healthy Vic, he’s a healthy Omega . . .« Vyvian had trailed off, and Vicencta nearly lost her breath. Male Veela’s had to be killed as soon as they were born. It was the one Veela law that all the Cadres agreed to, and Vyvian was holding her son in her arms. Vicencta whimpered.

»Vyv, _please_, no,« She pleaded. Vyvian wouldn’t look at her son’s eyes.

»You know why male Veela’s aren’t allowed to live,« Her twin had said. Vicencta nods slowly. Male Veela couldn’t control the three Gifts from their Goddess, they were ticking bombs waiting to go off. They could expose the magical community. They were dangerous. But Vicencta didn’t care about that. She wanted to hold her son.

»_Please_ Vyvian,«

Vyvian gave in, and Vicencta named her son John.

* * *

»So he lived,« Hermione whispers, leaning back into her chair. Memories of Juin talking about John surfaces, but then dread settles in her gut.

»But he’s dead now, isn’t he?« She says softly, and Vicencta clenches her fists. Vyvian places a calming hand on her twin’s arm.

»I’ll tell this part Vic,« She murmurs gently, and Vicencta huffs. Vyvian looks to Hermione sadly.

»John found out about his fate when he was eight . . .«

* * *

To say that Etoilnaiphas was greatly displeased would be sugar coating it. She was downright hateful. She wouldn’t step in the same room as John, nor let him play with Souci or Juin. Even the Mendonica Palace hated him, and it kept him locked inside tightly. She always was muttering that he was a threat to the family, and no one contradicted her.

They kept his existence a secret, and told everyone who had saw Vicencta pregnant with a third child that she had a miscarriage. John never even knew he had siblings until he stumbled upon the Crypts, and got lost.

Vicencta remembers that day vividly, as she frantically searched for her son, she never knew that he had found a shortcut into Souci’s room. John had fallen on his face in front of Souci and Juin during the summer, and the three quickly became the best of friends. As they were romping around the Library, John sat on the ground as he watched his sisters flying around.

Vyvian had entered the Library, unaware that John was there, and he startled her. In her confusement, they locked eyes, and she couldn’t stop staring. A heavy weight settled in her bones, and she couldn’t move. John, still so innocent, asked all the questions he had, and enthralled, Vyvian answered him.

She told him everything about male Veela’s, and their threat to the magical world. By now, Souci and Juin had landed, and were staring at John too.

“**Why can’t I leave the Palace? Why doesn’t it like me?**” He had asked.

“**The risk of you losing control is too great, and Etoilnaiphas would kill you herself. The Palace hates you because Etoilnaiphas does.**” Vyvian had said truthfully, and John burst into tears.

“**Do you hate me too, Aunty Vyv?**” He had wailed, and both Souci and Juin wrapped him in a tight hug.

“**No, never. Etoilnaiphas’ Mate tried to kill you and your mother, but I defended you both.**” Vyvian revealed, and that’s when Vicencta found them. She freed Vyvian from her enthrallment, and John commanded them to look into his eyes. They had obeyed, and listened to him as he ordered them to kill him if he ever lost control.

* * *

»My boy never wanted to hurt anyone, he just wanted to paint and sell those paintings.« Vicencta says, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. Hermione holds up a hand.

»Pause—Eto had a _Mate?!_« She exclaims, and then both twins’ faces sour.

»Yeah, I still haven’t forgiven Fem for not telling us,« Vyvian mutters. Hermione’s eyes flick to her melted eye. She starts to connect the story to moments of her family’s past.

». . . Eto was rejected by her Mate when you found her . . .« Hermione says, and the twins’ nods confirm her guess.

»Etoilnaiphas’ Mate was in her True-Veela form, so we still don’t know who it is.” Vicencta says tightly, glancing at Vyvian.

»The Mate nearly killed me to get to Vicencta and John who took a risky jaunt outside. And when Fem fought off her Mate, she took John back to the Mendonica Palace.« Vyvian adds.

»So . . . Eto killed him,« Hermione mutters to herself, trying to conceive Eto murdering a _child_. She can’t. If what they say about male Veela are true, it makes sense that they would have to get rid of the boy. On the other hand, he was still _family_, and nothing is more important to Veela than family.

»No, she didn’t,« Vicencta sneers. »She made Juin do it.«


	6. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione goes on a date!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally writing what y'all have been waiting for, ;)

»Eto wouldn’t do that.« Hermione says automatically, and Vicencta scowls.

»Oh really? Has she every prodded you in a direction you wouldn’t want to take? Urged you to get rid of someone discreetly?« Vicencta growls, and Vyvian lets her Thrall coat her twin’s body comfortingly. Hermione’s eye ticks as she thinks about Eto’s last letter.

»That’s how Etoilnaiphas is; she manipulates everything about you until you’re so tangled up in _her_ that you have no choice but to hold on to her!« Vicencta continues, and Hermione growls, unsure of herself.

»Your Tory may be many things, Vic, but you’re telling the story wrong,« Vyvian soothes.

»It’s not wrong—she’s not mine—and Etoilnaiphas lost the privilege of that nickname!« Vicencta snaps.

»Alright, but you’re omitting that John _wasn’t a child_ when he died.« Vyvian reasons calmly. Vicencta growls to herself, and starts pacing. Hermione can see where Juin got her explosive temper from. Souci must have taken after Vyvian.

»Hermione, you must realize that we all loved John, but keeping him alive was a serious risk should he ever be tempted to leave. When Juin had a _persona non grata_ issued for her in Britain for her idiotic, but understandable, stunt, things were tense between Fem and her.« Vyvian takes a deep breath.

»My niece has always been one for rash decisions—which by no means excuses what she did—but Fem had separated Juin from her Mate and daughters. Juin was desperate, and she somehow coerced John to escape as a distraction for Eto so she could rescue her family. He was eighteen at the time.«

There’s a heavy silence following Vyvian’s words.

»What did he do?« Hermione asks, almost afraid to know.

»He ruined the family, just like I said he would« Eto says coldly, and the three of them jump in response. Hermione turns to see her mother leaning against the closed door. Hermione knows she wasn’t _that_ absorbed in the story that she didn’t hear the Veela Alfā enter. Vicencta narrows her eyes, sneering at Eto.

»Let’s go Hermione.« Eto orders, her eye glancing at Vyvian before she turns on her heel and leaves. Hermione jumps to her feet, hurrying after her mother, brimming with questions.

»Hermione,« Vicencta calls in a private link just as Hermione opens the door. She looks back at the Veela Alpha.

»Be careful, you hear me? Etoilnaiphas’ ruthless and willing to sacrifice anything to get what she wants.« She warns, and Hermione remembers Juin saying the same thing. Without a word, she shuts the door behind her.

* * *

Hermione makes her way down the stairs silently. She can see Eto further down on the First floor’s landing, walking unhurriedly, but stiffly. Hermione hurries after her, taking two steps at a time.

»What exactly did he do?« Hermione calls out, and Eto pauses.

»He raped two Muggle girls, and then ate them.« Eto says calmly without turning around.

»What did you do the Werewolves in Fenrir’s Pack?« Hermione asks, and Eto sighs.

»Nothing,«

»Don’t you dare lie to me, not just after what I learned—« Hermione growls, jumping down the last five steps to the First floor’s landing. Eto whirls around, her burning amber-blue eye glinting fiercely,

»I. Did. Not. Do. _Anything_.« The Veela Alfā hisses, and Hermione tenses up. A twinge of guilt warms her face, but she pushes through it.

»Then tell me why the Delacour siblings murdered hundreds of innocents.« Hermione demands, and Eto narrows her eye.

»They found the Pack on their own accord, and after they did what they did, they told me about.« Now Eto sneers, and a large group of wizards and witches pass by the stairs. Their voices waft up to Hermione, momentarily distracting her for a brief second.

“. . . Sirius always overdecorates for Yule . . .”

“. . . Percy sent back his Christmas jumper . . .”

“. . . Trying Muggle stiches! Mum’s pissed . . .”

“. . . Find the blood stairs . . .”

»I’m going to get some air, and since you are so intent on casting me as the villain, you can stay here.« Eto says coldly, and departs from St. Mungos, leaving a cracked hole of guilt in Hermione’s heart.

* * *

She stands there for a long time while a steady stream of visitors and Healers climb the stairs around her.

“Excuse me girl,” A sharp female voice orders behind her, and Hermione swiftly moves to the side.

“Is your leg still bothering you Alice?” The woman asks gently, and Hermione’s eyes widen when she sees the procession. The tall Alpha woman leads it, helping a Beta woman down the stairs. The Beta’s right thigh is a stump, and every inch of her skin is covered in angry scars.

“Just the usual Augusta,” Beta Alice Longbottom chuckles. Hermione flicks her eyes back to Neville’s Gran, and she’s just as Hermione pictured her. Old, stern, and proud. A heavy feeling about Juin’s _persona non grata_ starts to grow inside Hermione as she stares at the scars.

“Wait up Mum, Merlin, you two can sure move fast,” Alpha Frank Longbottom calls loudly from a few steps behind his family. His left ear is mostly torn, and a mass of scars cover the right side of his face. Neville walks beside his father, eyes locked on him as he keeps a steady hold on Frank’s right arm since his other one is a bicep-stub.

“I can file more charges, get that Veela bitch thrown into Azkaban,” Augusta says to Alice, and Hermione sinks against the wall.

“What was that Mum? Speak up will you? I still can’t hear out of my left ear!” Frank yells, turning his head so his right ear can catch his mother’s words. They quickly pass by Hermione, and she watches them go. Suddenly the feeling of absolute loneliness creeps into her, and she pulls her legs against her chest.

Huddled against the wall, no one pays her any attention, and Hermione starts to sink into herself. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she rests her chin on her knees. Her mind keeps churning with all this new information, and she just needs to get away from it all. Sighing, her ears pick up the sound of heels.

Bright pink heels stop in front of Hermione, and she furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

“Hello my Liege-Lady.”

Hermione jerks her head up at Luna’s dreamy voice. The Gamma sits down in front of her, resting her arms on Hermione’s knees.

“Eto left me.” Hermione says, and she’s surprised how calm her voice is. Luna smiles softly, and rests her chin on her arms.

“It’s going to hurt a lot. You’re going to hurt a lot.” She says dreamily, and Hermione raises an eyebrow.

“You’re blunt today.”

Luna doesn’t even blink.

“Apologies. Hospitals boil my eyes and pluck my muscles.” Luna says, and her words actually sound remorseful. A Healer walks by them.

“They tried to resurrect my mother here. Fourth floor, left, left, right, right, Room Six. She was already brain dead.” Luna says dreamily, and lowers her eyes. Hermione lowers her legs into a criss-cross position, and pulls Luna into her lap. It never occurred to her that the Gamma might have PTSD about her witnessing her mother’s death.

“I’m here, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere,” She promises, and she wishes that Eto would say those words to her. As if summoned by her thoughts, the Veela Alfā enters St. Mungos, visibly more relaxed. She walks up to Hermione and Luna, stopping a few steps away from them.

“I am zorry for my immature outburzt. I zhould not have left you here,” Eto says gently, and Luna starts humming her tune rather loudly. Eto glances at the Gamma.

“No. You shouldn’t have.” Hermione says, and Eto’s attention is redirected at her again. Hermione doesn’t know why she felt uneasy when her mother looked at Luna.

“I am zorry, truly, I am.” Eto murmurs sadly, and her shoulders sag with the weight of the world.

“Let’s go home,” Hermione says, offering an olive branch to her mother, and Luna stops humming.

* * *

Hermione is one of the few students who are grateful that Yule break is over. However, the night they return, she’s summoned to Professor Snape’s office. Curiously, so is Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Harold, and Luna. Once they’re all in the Beta man’s office, he lines them up against a wall.

“The Headmaster has asked me to only teach the children of the Order the advanced, obscure magic of _Occlumency,_” Professor Snape sneers. “As such, our sessions shall remain private.” He drawls. Harold raises his hand shakily, and Professor Snape glares at him.

“Speak.”

Harold gulps.

“Um, then why are Neville, Luna, Hermione, and I here?” He asks, and Professor Snape curls his lip.

“You are marginally acceptable to learn both _Occlumency_ and _Legilimency_.” He drawls, and Neville has to hold his jaw to keep it from dropping. Professor Snape’s eyes flick to the Omega’s _Revol Key_, and then at Hermione.

“Miss Mendonica shall serve as your mental anchor, for she already has mastered the art of shielding her mind.” Professor Snape says, and launches into his lecture mode. ≠ _Legilimency_ is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person’s mind. Therefore the mind is not a book to be opened at will and examined at leisure.

Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be persuaded by the invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing. Only true Legilimency masters are able to under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly. ≠ Eye contact is highly advisable, for ≠ time and space matter in magic. ≠

_Occlumency_ is opposite, for it requires one to smother the ≠ feelings and memories that make lying impossible. ≠ Professor Snape puts his wand to his temple, drawing out several memories and depositing them into a pensieve behind him.

“Mr. Weasley, draw your wand,” He drawls, and the Beta does so nervously.

“You may attempt to defend yourself in any way. Now, calm your emotions, and prepare . . . _Legilimens!_”

Ron isn’t prepared. His body tenses, his eyes glaze over, and a pained expression grows on his face. Professor Snape holds him for a minute, then releases Ron. The Beta crumples to the ground, panting and sweating. Harry and Neville help him up.

“Twenty points from Gryffindor,” Professor Snape drawls, and his eyes land on Harry.

“Mr. Potter, ready yourself,” He says gruffly, and Harry steps forwards. Neville and Ginny help Ron lean against the wall. A second passes, and then they both shout ‘_Legilimens!_’ Both of them grimace, each of them fighting to win. Seven seconds pass, and then Harry winces. Professor Snape lowers his wand, and Harry then drops to a knee.

“Three points to Gryffindor,” The Beta man pants, and Harry shakily joins Ron. Suffice to say, none of the others are as strong as Harry except Luna. Unlike Harry; who’s obviously had some training with Professor Snape; the Gamma had put her wand to her head and smiled dreamily, not looking at Professor Snape as he struggled to enter her mind.

“Now, Miss Mendonica, I want you to attempt to breach my mind.” Professor Snape orders, turning to her. She nods, and steps forwards. He levels his wand at her, and she raises her hand.

“_Legilimens!_” They both shout, and Hermione shatters through his shields.

* * *

≠ She’s swimming in memories that aren’t hers—a hook-nosed man shouting at a cowering woman while a small dark-haired boy cries in a corner . . . A greasy-haired teenager sitting alone in a dark bedroom, pointing his wand at the ceiling, shooting down flies . . . A girl laughing as a scrawny boy tries to mount a bucking broomstick . . . Walking down a corridor, looking to the left at a closed door—

“ENOUGH!” ≠ Hermione comes back to herself, as she straightens her back, breathing in deeply to steady herself. Likewise, Professor Snape struggles to recover himself, closing his eyes to repair his mental shields.

“Good, very good, too good.” He mutters, more to himself than her. However Hermione’s more concerned about that door in his mind. The door that Professor Snape and the rest of the Order know to be the entrance to the Department of Mysteries.

* * *

The next morning, Daphne silently opens a copy of the _Daily Prophet_, sliding it between them so that they both can read it. Err’sh leans out from his comfy spot on in Hermione’s lap, snagging a piece of bone from her plate.

“This is madness,” Daphne mutters.

**≠ MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN**

**MINISTRY FEARS OLD DEATH EATERS ≠ ARE RALLYING!**

The Ministry of Magic announced last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban. Speaking to reporters in his private office, ≠ Tom Riddle, ≠ Minister of Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening, and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals. ≠ One (Bartimous Crouch Jr.) was given the Kiss before he could fully escape.

≠ “We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the still convicted murder Sirius Black escaped,” said ≠ Riddle ≠ last night. “Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. ≠

If these individuals would rally themselves around Black’s success, then the logical conclusion would that they would chose Black as their leader. However, I am obliged to remind you, that Black was pardoned of all his crimes, and set to live his life as a free wizard. Yet, where is he? I have not seen a single hair off his head since he was pardoned. If he has led us into a false sense of security, and has struck against the Wizarding community, then he has betrayed our good faith.

So we of the Ministry are pooling all our resources to recapture the criminals. We highly suggest that on no circumstances that any approach them. Remain alert, and most of all, be safe.”

At the bottom of the Minister Riddle’s speech, the ten mugshots of Alpha Nikol Avery, Alpha Antonin Dolohov, Alpha Walden Macnair, Alpha Grave Travers, Alpha Augustus Rockwood, Alpha Jason Jugson, Alpha Yulk Muclciber, Alpha Corban Yaxley, Omega Peter Pettigrew, and Alpha Amycus Carrow sneer up at her.

“At the same time as the breakout, Unspeakable Alpha Broderick Bode was killed,” Daphne whispers, and Beta Tracey leans in.

“There are rumors that he helped the Death Eaters escape, and then they killed him for it,” The Beta whispers, and her whispers start spreading down the table like wildfire.

* * *

The High Inquisitor strikes again with the new Decree Twenty-Six to squash the Death Eater rumors. The Decree bans Professors from telling students anything related to their subject, which the Pink Toad judges Hagrid to be guilty of breaking the ban at least five times.

So the Half-Giant is now on probation for letting slip that the _Patronus Charm_ could be used to send messages. Now, the H.G. start working on producing their own Patroni for the next few lessons. Hermione soon finds herself adjusting to her chaotic after school schedule, and the months pass quickly with the H.G. meetings, nightly patrols, slow _Occlumency_ lessons, and keeping an careful eye on the Pink Toad.

When a Hogsmeade Saturday rolls around, Hermione wakes up to a castle covered in red hearts and pink decorations. Still half-asleep, she rubs her eyes, trying to figure out why the dorm looks like the inside of a stomach. Feeling the space next to her, Hermione wakes up more when she feels the cold sheets.

“Daphne?” She yawns, sitting up. She hears a snicker from the bathroom, and Beta Tracey pokes her head out.

“Hey Hermione,” She singsongs. Hermione blinks at her. She hasn’t really seen the Beta this giddy in . . . Well, never, really.

“Say, you know Madam Puddifoot’s in Hogsmeade? The small tea shop? I reserved a table for some of the Court members to hang out in three hours. It’s been a while since we’ve had a chance to convene properly, you know?” Beta Tracey babbles, and Hermione yawns.

“Alright, I’ll be there,”

Beta Tracey grins.

“Brilliant! Oh, Pansy wants to go dress shopping with you,”

“Come again?”

“Oh look at that, see you later my King!” Beta Tracey says loudly, running out of the dorm. Pansy slams the door shut after the Beta, and glares at Hermione over her shoulder.

“Let’s get something straight—I do not _want_ to go shopping with you—I’m desperate.” The Alpha growls, and Hermione raises an eyebrow.

“I was completely aware of that.” Hermione drawls, and Pansy glares at her.

“You better be ready in two minutes to go to Hogsmeade,” Pansy hisses, and storms out of the dorm.

* * *

“Absolutely not, that dress looks like an Omega puked all over it.” Pansy snaps, snatching the dark green dress from Hermione’s hands.

“It’s our House color,” Hermione drawls, putting her hands on her hips, but the Alpha scoffs.

“If you want to wear the same color you wore to the Yule Ball, then be my guest,” Pansy tosses the dress into another aisle. They’re Gladrags Wizardwear, and Pansy is tearing through the dress section.

“Why are you so desperate to shop with me?” Hermione asks, and Pansy pulls off a black sheer dress.

“Well, I suppose drowning really puts a perspective on things like petty dislike,” SHe drawls, and Hermione startles.

“What? When did you _drown?_”

Pansy waves her hand dismissively.

“In a Hawaiian cave; rescued by a Sylkie kiss; honestly it was one fever dream after another; why do you care?”

Hermione raises an eyebrow.

“Because you’re talking to me like how you talk to your female posse.” Hermione says flatly, and Pansy places the black dress in the growing pile next to her.

“Hey, _I’m_ trying to get along with _you_, so what’s your problem?”

“I’m just adjusting to you being relatively nice.”

Pansy rolls her eyes.

“Just try this dress on.” The Alpha says, tossing a dress at Hermione. She catches it, and lays it aside.

“Pansy, I’m not wearing magenta.” Hermione drawls, and heads over to the tuxedo section.

“Where are you going? Last time I checked, _I_ was the desperate one who needs a _dress_ for _my_ Valentine’s date!” Pansy calls after her, laying it on thick that she has a date and Hermione doesn’t. She makes a mental note to ask Daphne out for a night date on the top of the Astronomy tower.

“Who are you taking?” Hermione asks as she peruses through the numerous suits.

“Tracey Davis. She’s . . .” Pansy’s voice trails off into a low coo. Hermione cranes her neck to look at what captivates the Alpha’s attention.

“I really have outdone myself,” Pansy purrs, and hurries over to Hermione, holding up her find.

“Congratulations Hermione, I just found you perfect dress for the future date that you no doubt will be taking Daphne on,” Pansy drawls proudly.

* * *

An hour-and-a-half later, Hermione and Pansy are wrapped in their cloaks and walking down the road to Madam Puddifoot’s. Suddenly, Omega Tracey barrels out of the Three Broomsticks, fuming.

“Wait, Tracey! I’m sorry! I don’t know why I said those—” Beta Colin Creevey bursts through the door, his panicked face whitening even more when he sees Hermione and Pansy. Omega Tracey catches sight of them, and throws herself into Pansy’s arms.

“Pansy! This little _cretin_ said that as an _Omega,_ I have _no value_ as a perfect _housewife!_ He said I’d be _more_ respected if I followed _him!_ A _Beta_ over an _Alpha!_” Omega Tracey yells, pointing an accusing finger at the shivering Beta. Her shrill words stop the steady flow of traffic, and a low hum whispers start up.

Pansy wraps her arms around the enraged Omega Tracey, and smirks devilishly at Colin.

“We’ll meet up with you later Hermione, right now I have to defend my fiancé’s honor.” Pansy drawls, and Omega Tracey smirks as she nuzzles Pansy’s neck. Hermione stares at the pair next her in shock. She wants to question the Alpha more about what exactly happened in Hawaii, but she holds herself back for now.

“Don’t go too overboard.” Hermione drawls, and Colin turns Ghostly white.

* * *

“Excuse me, I’m here under the reservation of Beta Tracey Nettlebed,” Hermione says to Madam Puddifoot. The Beta woman hums, scanning through her ledger.

“Ah, I found it. This way Miss Mendonica,” Madam Puddifoot says with a smile, and she leads Hermione to a private two-seater table on the second landing of the shop.

“Here’s your table, I’ll send over your waitress in a little bit,” The Beta says, leaving before Hermione can say anything. She just stares at the small table, and a small smile tugs at her lips.

“Tracey you little snake,” Hermione mutters as she unclasps her cloak, draps it over the back of her chair, and sits. Her waitress comes over, and the Omega woman can’t help stuttering as she takes Hermione’s tea order. A minute later, the waitress hurriedly delivers the two tea cups; hard black tea with a dash of red pepper for her, and creamy raspberry pomegranate tea for Daphne.

No sooner does the waitress leave, Daphne’s sits in the chair opposite of Hermione, and Hermione’s entranced. The Beta is wearing a dark silver dress, the neckline swoops low on her shoulders, revealing delicate clavicles and dainty shoulders. It even dips a little further than socially acceptable into Daphne’s cleavage, not that Hermione’s complaining.

However, the thing that catches Hermione’s eyes are the envy-green swirls spiraling down the sleeves. Daphne smirks at Hermione’s ogling.

“We match.” The Beta murmurs smugly, and she takes a sip of her tea without breaking eye contact. She brushes some of her white-blond hair behind her ear.

“A bold statement, wearing my House crest,” Hermione replies silkily, taking a sip of her tea. Of course, she completes the crest with her slim, pitch black dress that starts blur like sand into blood-red color starting below the knees. She ought to thank Pansy later for finding it for her.

“Well, not as bold as giving you my scent to wear,” Daphne chuckles, and sets down her tea cup.

“While we’re on the subject of scents, I want your opinion on this new one I made,” The Beta says coyly, taking out a small roll-on perfume bottle from her clutch. Pushing up her sleeves, Daphne uncaps the roll-on, and dabs the inside of her wrists and behind her ear lobes. Stowing the bottle again, she rests her arms on the table, letting the scent make its way slowly over to Hermione.

The instant it does, she stiffens, closing her eyes as she drinks in Daphne’s scent. It’s still the same, but accented somehow, alluring her senses, almost like the pheromones Omega’s give off when they’re flirting. The warmth they emit, the promise of more . . .

“Erm, do you want to continue this date somewhere else?” Daphne asks breathily into Hermione’s ear, her voice oddly high. Hermione opens her eyes, realizing that she’s pressed up against Daphne’s side, gently mouthing on the heated flesh behind the Beta’s ear.

“Where?” Hermione husks, wrapping her arms around the Beta’s shoulders to draw her closer. Daphne shudders a little.

“L-Luna rented Room Eleven in the Three Broomsticks for two days—” Daphne manages to say before Hermione Side-Apparates them away.

— . —

_Occlumens_ = Occlumency Spell 2x

_Legilimens_ = Legilimency Spell 3x

_Occlumens_ = Occlumency Spell

_Legilimens!_ = Legilimency Spell 3x

_Expecto_ _Patronum_ = Patronus Charm


	7. She’s The One For Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Daphne finally have sex!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their lovemaking takes up at least 2/3rds of this chapter, so be fulfilled and happy about it, ;)

They land on the on floor in the middle of the room, and Hermione slams Daphne up against the nearest flat surface, mashing their lips together. The Beta squeaks, breaking apart to gasp about the door before Hermione reconnects their mouths. A flick of her hand makes the door lock and silencing wards coat the walls.

Their tongues intertwine, and Hermione breathes in Daphne’s scent. A low growl rumbles through her, and she presses her body harder against the Beta. One of her handsslide up to grip the back of Daphne’s neck, squeezing a little, and the Beta’s eyes roll back in pleasure.

Holding Daphne in place with her hips, Hermione’s other hand grips onto the Beta’s jaw firmly, wrestling’s Daphne’s tongue into submission. Daphne moans into her mouth, her hands grasping at Hermione’s shoulders like a lifeline as her knees buckle. Hermione gently slides Daphne to the floor, still kissing the breath out of her.

The kiss isn’t gentle, but unrelenting, aggressive, pure dominance. Daphne whimpers, letting Hermione’s tongue sweep against hers. Daphne’s hands claw at Hermione’s sides, trying to get Hermione to let her breath. Smirking, Hermione detaches from Daphne’s lips, and runs her tongue along the underside of the Beta’s jaw.

Daphne’s gasping pants choke, and she groans. Hermione latches onto familiar bite-scars, biting down as she releases her Thrall and Alfā pheromones into the air. Daphne squirms, moaning as Hermione’s Thrall envelops her, coating her skin under her dress. Hermione stares at her Beta, heat stirring in her blood and she slowly unclenches her teeth from the beautifully marked skin.

Daphne lets out a little wail, crawling after Hermione as she backs up until her back collides with the edge of the bed. Grinning, Hermione scoops up the Beta, and tosses her carefully onto the bed. The Beta shrieks turns into a lustful groan when Hermione climbs on top of her, grinding her hips into Daphne’s.

“Alfā,” She whimpers, and Hermione smirks. She takes a moment to drink in her Beta; hair sprawled across the pillow, full breasts heaving, hands clenching the sheets, brilliant grass-green eyes dark with lust, and a dark flush dusting pale skin.

“_Roll over._” Hermione purrs in her Alfā voice, and Daphne hurriedly obeys. Hermione lifts up on her knees to allow the Beta to move better, and then promptly sits on Daphne’s cute little derrière. The Beta gasps into the pillow, and she tucks her elbows under her. Her back now arches as Daphne looks over her shoulder at Hermione.

“_You are mine. Do you understand?_” Hermione growls, dragging her fingers down Daphne’s spin, who shudders and groans as her head drops. The temperature seems to go up at her words, and a deep throbbing starts in her core. Hermione starts to rock her hips.

“Y-yes Alfā!” Daphne whimpers, panting softly, and she pushes up against Hermione’s harsh fingers, moaning. Hermione leans forwards, letting a ghost of her weight settle over Daphne’s back. Her hands cover the Beta’s shaking ones as she starts to morph between her legs.

“_No one will touch you like I will,_” Hermione says hotly in Daphne’s ear. She licks slowly along the outer length of said ear, running the tip of her tongue along the outer edge. The Beta shudders.

“_Alfā,_” Daphne moans. “Use me Alfā, please, I want—I want _you_ to _own_ me!” The Beta blurts, and Hermione knows Daphne’s blushing madly.

“_I think my crafty little Tigresse [Tigress] has something in mind, am I wrong?_” Hermione purrs, and she yanks Daphne’s arms out from under her. The Beta gasps as her breath is knocked out from her lungs, and Hermione’s full weight settles on top of her. Hermione grinds herself into Daphne’s ass, flexing her grip on the Beta’s hands as her Thrall sinks into tense shoulder muscles under her.

“_I won’t ask twice Daphne,_” Hermione growls, and she glides her hot tongue along the back of the Beta’s neck. Daphne groans gutturally into the pillow, and whispers her reply. 

“I want to try be put under _Imperious Curse_ again.”

Hermione blinks in shock, but then a giddy excitement bubbles up in her.

“_As you wish._” She purrs, and roughly seizes a fistful of hair, yanking it to the side. The Beta cries out, startled, and dilated, brilliant grass-green eyes stare widely up at Hermione.

“_Imperio!_” Hermione whispers.

* * *

Daphne blinks slowly, an annoying ray of sunlight shining right on her face. She starts to sit up, but cringes, groaning. Her body’s aching deliciously inside and out in ways she’s never imagined. She shifts her legs, her ankle brushing up against the roughness of a long strip of rope.

Daphne opens one of her eyes a crack, spotting the rope is still attached to the bed post. Her eyes falls down on the silk, black ribbon lying next to her head on the pillow. It had both served as a blindfold and a gag at some point or another during the night.

The daylight also brings up the low drumming of an intense headache. Hermione shifts behind her, an arm tightening around Daphne’s back and pulling her closer against the Alfā. Daphne presses her face against Hermione’s chest, scattering a few loving kisses against the Alfā’s naked breasts. She shivers, feeling a trickle of rewarding pleasure swim through her.

Daphne can still feel the lingering traces of Hermione’s control hooked into her bones. Hermione shifts again, and her stunning amber-brown eyes open. The Alfā purrs huskily, and places a hot kiss against the sensitive curve of her ear. The cooling ache between Daphne’s legs start up again, and she weaves them around Hermione’s.

A hand is between them in a flash, pressing hard against her thigh. She jerks, whimpering in anticipation at the pressure.

“I’m still in your head, Daphne,” Hermione yawns, and her sharp teeth scrape down towards Daphne’s tense shoulders. Flashes of the Alfā mind-fucking her just as roughly and tirelessly makes both of them shudder.

“Please,” Daphne begs, barring her throat in submission. Hermione chuckles darkly, and her sharp canines sink into her claiming mark on Daphne’s jugular. Daphne’s body jolts, pain and pleasure mixing as she squirms, whining noises escaping her mouth. Hermione growls, and the sound shoots straight between Daphne’s legs.

Their naked bodies flush against each other, and Hermione rolls Daphne onto her back, leaning over her. Long, slim fingers stroke Daphne’s face while the Alfā’s hips gently rock against hers. It’s slow and sensual, far different from the aggressive passion from before.

“_Is my little Beta up for more?_” Hermione purrs sexily in her Alfā voice, and her amber-brown eyes morph snake red. Those dancing fingers fist into Daphne’s silken hair, and the Alfā’s mouth nibbles along Daphne’s jaw.

“I-I—_oh,_” Daphne’s pant turns into a relaxed sigh when Hermione methodically licks the bite-scars on her throat. Her arms tighten around Hermione’s neck, fingers digging into strong shoulders. The action reminds Daphne of all the teeth marks littered all over her body like paint on a canvas.

“_And what a canvas you make,_” Hermione groans. One hand trails down Daphne’s neck to her shoulder, digging sharp nails into her flesh. The Alfā’s weight settles down against Daphne’s hips, effectively pinning her to the sweat and cum-dried sheets. Daphne’s breath hitches at the sight of Hermione over her.

Those lips come down, and Daphne closes her eyes waiting. But there’s nothing. Opening her eyes again, she stares at Hermione whose only a hair’s breath away from her.

_Tell your Alfā what you want,_ Hermione coos in Daphne’s mind.

“More!” Daphne’s hands reach up to cup the Alfā’s face, bringing their lips together. The kiss is heated and controling, their open mouths moving against each other. Their tongues dance, neither fighting for dominance, but as equals. The warmth emitting from Hermione’s maw is smoldering, melting Daphne to her core.

Hermione presses the full length of her body against Daphne’s, turning her on more as her body flushes hotly. Daphne goes limp, letting herself be pressed harder into the bed. At the submission, Hermione’s lips turn bruising, smashing against hers with a focused intensity that turn’s any of Daphne’s previous sleepiness into excitement.

Fingers grip harder into Daphne’s hair, wrenching her head back. Daphne keens, moaning as the hand holding her shoulder drags down her chest, teasingly skipping her breasts. Daphne’s focus splits between Hermione’s mouth and the sinful hand clawing down her stomach, leaving burning trails in its wake.

Hermione detaches from Daphne’s lips, nipping her way along the graceful shell of her ear, down the path of a beating pulse. When she reaches Daphne’s breasts, the Alfā’s tongue flicks a hard nipple. Daphne moans, thrusting her chest up into Hermione’s furnace of a mouth, growing wetter.

The Alfā growls, switching to the other nipple, and Daphne wriggles, trying to satisfy the sharp ache below. Hermione’s hand on her stomach clenches, pummeling her Thrall through Daphne’s skin.

Daphne throws back her head, a shriek slicing the air. The Alfā’s Thrall bores through her muscles and organs like millions of hooked barbs each laced with pleasure. It’s like the Unforgivable all over again, but better. When Hermione’s magic rushes into Daphne’s mind, it’s all over.

Daphne isn’t in control of her mouth, for words pour out incoherently; begging; pleading; screaming. Something completely Omega-like. Daphne doesn’t register that the Alfā isn’t above her anymore until the sounds coming from her mouth is interrupted by pain. She lurches, a heavy gasp shaking her lungs at the _fangs_ puncturing the soft flesh of her thigh.

Daphne’s head snaps up, staring down at Hermione with wide eyes. The Alfā smirks, licking the blood from her lips.

“_I’m going to make you mine again,_” Hermione purrs.

“Y-yes,” Daphne whimpers, growing wetter at the sight of the Alfā between her legs. Suddenly, just like before, a force throws Daphne backwards into her own mind, surrounded by a fluffy weightlessness comfort. Every worry, fear, and question slipped through her fingers, and filled with the blissful feeling of uncaring happiness.

She has no words to say, she needs none. Daphne’s hands tighten around ruined sheets, clenching and unclenching involuntarily. The Unforgivable seeps through her being, lodging into blood, her very soul . . . And the sense of something _other_ watching her awakens.

Daphne is unconcerned, having no desire to regain the control she always held firmly. It’s so _unnatural_ for her, yet it feels so _right_. Hermione laughs, listening in on Daphne’s thoughts. Then the Alfā descends. The moment Hermione’s tongue enters her aching, impossibly wet core, Daphne howls, groaning and gasping wantonly.

Hermione, her beautiful, deadly, powerful Alfā is _eating her alive_. Daphne’s hands jerk down, fisting in dark-brown hair. Her hips start moving, but the Alfā’s hands on her midriff stills them. Daphne can’t string any coherent thoughts together, writhing as a wickedly talented tongue curls and licks. Hermione’s eyes flutter, and she shudders.

“_Oh Daphne,_” The Alfā moans, and Daphne feels heavy pressure slide into her mind. Her breath catches, as Hermione invades some part of her head that she’s never felt before, and a touch of something deep in the back of her skull makes her scream. The Alfā hooks Daphne’s legs over her shoulders. The new angle has Daphne howling and writhing.

Hermione mouth works her hard, and a clenching in Daphne’s stomach starts to build up. When Hermione growls, she can feel it reverberate throughout her whole body.

_Don’t you dare cum,_ Hermione’s mental voice hisses, and a pounding in Daphne’s mind starts, pulsating right behind her eyes. Daphne moans as the Alfā’s tongue spears deeply inside her, and her walls clench around the foreign muscle. Her body responds, heating up as she gets even wetter, but she won’t cum. Hermione takes a breath, and morphs.

Daphne roars as that talented tongue swells, growing bigger, _longer_, stretching her so much. It shoots in and out, and the pit in Daphne’s stomach keeps climbing, and a flicker of fear crosses her mind at the heightening sensation. She should of come from this already. A thrust with Hermione’s tongue almost shatters her, but her body refrains.

Daphne lets out a wail, and bucks her hips. The wail climbs three octaves as the tip of Hermione’s tongue flicks a rough patch so, _so_ far into her. The pounding in Daphne’s mind becomes drumming, and she thrashes her head, crying as she wails in pain and pleasure. Daphne’s responses grow more wild, and Hermione continuously mashes her that spot, turning her into molten liquid.

Daphne’s tearing up on the inside, her body struggling violently to free itself from the pain, yet obeying the order to keep the pleasure mounting. Without warning, Hermione pulls back hard, almost all the way out of her. Daphne cries out, her walls clenching around nothing. Her rock hard clit hurts so much from the lack of attention to it.

“_Cum_.” Hermione snarls, and slams back in, the flat of her tongue bashing that delicious spot, her fingers squeeze her clit. A strangled howl tears from Daphne’s lips as her whole body tenses, and her back and neck arches high. Waves of light and searing heat crash behind her eyes, down her body, imploding in on herself. She can’t see through the thick fog of pleasure, as her body continuously spasms.

She can’t even remember who she is. She’s lost in her mind, unable to tell what body she once had, or what the thing is that’s still fucking her mind. The Alfā flops on top of her, sweat slicked hair draping over her shaking midriff as a goddess rests her head there.

“_Ma Tigresse [my Tigress], my Daphne,_« Hermione’s panting voice gasps. Daphne—ah yes, that’s her name—focuses on breathing. Anything else can wait. After a long minute, Daphne manages to regain a sense of her body. She’s still trembling and jerking in the aftershocks, but she opens her eyes. Hermione’s isn’t even tired, but she looks frustrated.

“_Did you enjoy round five?_”

Daphne can’t muster the energy from her blitzed out mind to respond to the smug question. She’s quite content to lie there on her back lethargically. Although her mind shivers when she thinks of Hermione entering her again.

“You’re . . . Insatiable . . .” Daphne yawns, and Hermione grins darkly.

“_Don’t you know all good things come in sevens? And I do believe, it’s your turn to have a go at me,_” Daphne’s eyes widen at Hermione’s words. Hermione sits up, and crawls up Daphne as a familiar appendage morphs between the Alfā legs.

“_Aw, did I tucker out my little—ooooooh,_” Hermione’s smug drawl dissolves into a wanton moan as Daphne flips her over and impales herself on the Alfā’s member.

* * *

When they wake wrapped up in each other later that day, Hermione takes stock of her their new, combined scents. Breathing deeply, Hermione curls more around Daphne, holding her close. The Beta yawns, stretching against Hermione.

“That was incredible,” She yawns, and Hermione purrs. A tap at the window reveals the presence of Err’sh with their Hogwarts uniforms. A few long minutes filled with numerous kisses later, they’re walking towards Hogwarts hand-in-hand.

Entering the castle, Hermione spies a number of _The Quibbler_ magazines strewn about. Picking one up, she stares at the title.

**THE I.W.O.R.’S CHAMPION’S _TRUE_ ACCOUNT OF THE DEATH EATERS’ ATTACK!**

Hermione and Daphne share a confused look. Hermione doesn’t know what Luna’s doing, provoking the Pink Toad like this. They quickly make their way back to their dorm without any interruptions, as everyone is still eating dinner. Taking their time getting ready for bed, Hermione soon wraps Daphne in an embrace under the covers of her bed.

Err’sh flies through the dorm door, and lands above Daphne’s head. Whistling softly in approval, he settles down on Daphne’s pillow, and they all fall asleep.

* * *

The dawn is heralded with the ecstatic crowing of Beta Tracey and Millicent. Hermione opens an eye to see the two Beta’s running around in circles; Beta Tracey gushing proudly about how her “Match-Maker Plan” was executed flawlessly and Millicent hyping her up. Err’sh fluffs his feathers crankily, and moves to lay on Daphne’s ears.

Their noise is too much for Pansy this early in the morning, and she hexes them out of the dorm. Daphne of course wakes up because Millicent slammed the door too loud, and Pansy lets out a furious, cat-like hiss. The Alpha angrily flings herself out of bed and stomps to the bathroom. Just as her hand wraps around the handle, Daphne calls out to her.

“Pansy?”

The Alpha’s spine stiffens, then relaxes as she stands tall. Pansy looks over her shoulder at them with an indifferent stare.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” Daphne says warmly, and Pansy’s cheeks redden slightly.

“Well—it was about time you two shagged—the sexual tension was suffocating,” Pansy scoffs in an exaggerated tone, and slams the door to the bathroom. Daphne turns to Hermione, and presses herself more into Hermione’s front.

“Hawaii really changed her. I wonder what happened there, do you know?” The Beta asks, and Hermione shrugs.

“Pansy claims she drowned and was ‘rescued by a Sylkie kiss’.”

“Oh, interesting.”

By the time the pair make their way down to breakfast, news of another Decree is starting to spread. This one, Number Twenty-seven, bans students from reading _The_ _Quibbler_ or they’ll be expelled. When they sit down, Astoria appears out of nowhere and tackles Hermione.

“_OH MY MERLIN!_ YOU FINALLY _DID IT!_ OH MERLIN I’M SO _HAPPY!_ I CAN’T BELIEVE I HAVE A NEW _SISTER-IN-LAW! EEEEEEEEEY!_” She screams in Hermione’s ear, and Daphne grabs her sister by Astoria’s robes collar. In a show of surprising strength, the Beta pulls the young Alpha off Hermione’s back and into the seat next to Daphne.

Everyone in the Great Hall stare at them, and when Daphne practically climbs into Hermione’s lap from sitting so close, and whispers start up. A wave of congratulations wash all across the table, and when Hermione finally gets her ear to stop ringing, Draco smiles widely at them.

“Good match, Hermione. Have you told your Mother?” He asks, and Daphne face palms.

“As usual, my sister is assuming things. We aren’t engaged.” Daphne says clearly, and their year mates look at each other awkwardly.

“Oh. Of course.” Flora and Hestia mutter at the same time as they simultaneously lower their wands under the table which are still sprouting confetti. Hermione smirks at Draco, and slings an arm around Daphne.

“We fucked.” She drawls out proudly, and Draco’s jaw drops.

“_Hermione!_” Daphne hisses, but she blushes as Astoria starts trying to shake the details out of her.

* * *

The Pink Toad’s new Decree doesn’t work. By noon, the whole student body seems to have a copy of _The Quibbler_ to read in secret. The almost idol-like worship for Hermione that had simmered down since her Fourth year surges back up, and all the students look to her in reverence.

Meanwhile the Pink Toad is on an interrogation spree, stopping students randomly to turn out their pockets. Of course, she never finds anything. The Professors; due to Decree Twenty-six; cannot express their favor with Hermione’s rebelling directly. However, they award her extra points for simple tasks, and surprisingly, Professor Snape gifts her a single dose of the _Draught of Living Death._

* * *

During a quick _Occlumency_ check-in, they’re interrupted by a school Owl flying in with a small note. Professor Snape unfolds it, and sneers.

“It seems our esteemed High Inquisitor has ordered all of us to the Courtyard.” He drawls, and burns the note. Hermione shares a look with the others, but they trudge out of Professor Snape’s office. They all join the throng of students who crowd the halls, and soon filter out into the peristyle.

Hermione crosses her arms, glaring at the Pink Toad who smiles smugly at a shaking Professor Trelawney in the middle of the Courtyard. The Pink Toad’s words slur out as a wave of sleepiness threatening to swamp Hermione. Trying to clear her head, she sees an image of hooves walking out of the Dark Forest, and then the sleepiness dissipates.

Ever the knight in shining armor, Professor McGonagall comes charging into the Courtyard to comfort Professor Trelawney, only for Dumbledore to arrive dramatically as usual. He expertly maneuvers the Pink Toad in the direction he wants her, and Hermione narrows her eyes.

He then presents the new Divination Professor, Firenze the Centaur. While everyone gasps, Hermione stares at the fading, hoof-shaped bruise on his chest. The Pink Toad eyes bulge incredulously, and her disgust is evident. Dumbledore smiles grandfatherly, and begins to escort Firenze into the castle. The Pink Toad seethes, and she furiously waddles through the students

Fortunately, the Pink Toad doesn’t see Hermione’s foot until she face plants into the cobblestone, and everyone’s roaring laughter chases her back into Hogwarts castle.

* * *

Hermione ditches her History of Magic class to see Firenze’s first class. Entering the transformed classroom silently, she slips to the back of the classroom. It’s on the ground floor to accommodate Firenze’s inability to climb stairs and so the grass covered floor can grow easier. The night sky sparkles on the ceiling, and instead of desks, students sit behind tree stumps.

It’s a Fifth year Ravenclaw Divination class, and Firenze’s voice has all of them wrapped up in his words. He speaks of _true_ seeing, not the hogwash that Professor Trelawney spouts. After his lecture, Firenze bids the students to look into the burning sage and mallows-weet.

The scent is peculiar, but not bad. Luna turns around after sniffing the sage, and crawls over to Hermione. Draping herself across Hermione’s lap, the Gamma snuggles closer to Hermione.

“Firenze told me that Mr. Hagrid kidnapped a Giant.”

— . —

_Imperio!_ = Unforgivable Imperius Curse 2x

_Causes the drinker to fall into a deep, death-like slumber_ = Draught of Living Death

_Occlumens_ = Occlumency Spell


	8. The Traitor’s Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vengence! Is served!

In the latest H.G. meeting, Seamus produces a Fox Patroni that chases it’s tail over his head. Ginny’s Horse rears next to Beta Ernie Macmillian’s Boar before it gallops around the room to stand tall next to Leilaki. Draco’s Mink settles itself in his hair, and Ron’s Jack Russel Terrier barks at him.

Peter’s Duck frolics around him, and his eyes are alight with happiness. Roseanne’s abnormally large Goose stands next to her, and the Patronus is towers over it’s caster. Astoria summons forth hers, students ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ at the giant Timber Wolf, and Daphne’s Arctic Fox curls itself up on the Timber Wolf’s head.

Harold’s large Doberman Pinscher appears, snapping its jaws playfully at Neville’s Lion’s tail. Luna produces her Hare, and it jumps onto the Lion’s back. Before Hermione can cast her Patronus, Winky appears, wringing her ears.

The Pink Toad comes! She squeaks shrilly. Err’sh flares his wings, and lets out a series of piercing whistles. All the Patroni disappear as their castors look at Hermione, and the Room of Requirement forms multiple doors.

“Class is dismissed early. Get into pairs, stay quiet, and take long ways to your Houses. The Pink Toad is coming.” Hermione orders calmly, and the other Kings start collecting their House mates. Hermione nods to Daphne, and she takes charge of the Slytherins.

Panicked whispers spread throughout the students, although the Kings radiate enough calm for everyone to exit safely. Hermione even sees Leilaki leaving arm-in-arm with Ginny, murmuring comfortingly into the young Alpha’s ear, much to Parvati’s ire. Soon there’s only Hermione, Luna, and Err’sh in the Room.

*Go to Daphne,* Hermione tweets, and Err’sh takes off through a window from the table he was perched on.

“Ready, my Liege-Lady?” Luna says dreamily, already skipping through a door.

“As I can be.” Hermione mutters, and follows the Gamma.

* * *

They almost make it to the Ravenclaw tower when Alpha Graham Montague rushes around a corner, his expression a little wild.

“She’s on my tail—what do we do?!” He gasps, and Luna lunges at him. Graham jerks, reacting instantly and he catches her in his arms.

“Oh! I’ve got you now!” The Pink Toad gleefully giggles as she rounds the corner. Graham’s adapts an indifferent stance, and Luna makes a show of trying to free herself from his grip. Hermione follow’s Luna’s lead.

“High Inquisitor, we have caught a student breaking one of your Decrees.” Hermione says, stepping forwards to take one of Luna’s arms. Graham holds the other, and Luna stands defiantly between them.

“Well, ≠ Fifty points to Slytherin! ≠ I knew that you would learn to see the good in my ways,” The Pink Toad says smugly, and Graham tilts his head.

“Don’t you mean the ‘Ministry’s ways’? My father is in the Ministry you know, I have had the honor to have tea with Lord Malfoy at his Manor,” Graham boasts, and the Pink Toad smiles simperingly at him.

“Of course I do my boy, now, why don’t you go see if you can find more students—”

“I curse you, Toad. May the Heliopath never dance for you. May the Nargle steal what you most need. May the Pixie pick at your flesh. May the Wrackspurt rot your brain. Toad, I have cursed you!” Luna says dreamily, and Graham quickly lets go of her. He gives Hermione a quick glance, and then he scurries off.

* * *

The furious Pink Toad herds Hermione and Luna to Dumbledore’s office at wand point. Hermione keeps her grip loose around Luna’s arm, and the Gamma skips, a content look on her face. Just as they’re about to enter the Headmaster’s office, Hermione feels a weak _Imperious Curse_ splatter and sizzle out against her natural mental shields.

Luna squeezes Hermione’s hand, and shakes her head the slightest bit. Hermione squeezes the Gamma’s hand back, and they both hear the Pink Toad hiss with frustration. When they enter Dumbledore’s office, Hermione adopts a neutral expression when she sees who’s waiting for them. Clustered around Dumbledore’s desk is Minister Riddle, Bella, Professor McGonagall, and Dumbledore himself.

Minister Riddle has the distinct aura of someone who doesn’t wish to be in the room, and Hermione gets the feeling he would be scowling at the Pink Toad if he wasn’t in his present company. Bella doesn’t even bother to hide her yawn. She’s still dressed in her night clothes with her hair piled up messily atop of her head. The Alpha stares suspiciously at Hermione and Luna’s clasped hands.

“Minister Riddle, sir! These two were caught breaking the Ministry’s Educational Decree Twenty-four!” The Pink Toad crows. Minister Riddle breathes deeply, and Bella snorts.

“Even though this girl in question has been accused of breaking Ministry law, _Dolores_, she is still under the Headmaster’s jurisdiction.” Minister Riddle says with a glance at Dumbledore. The old Alpha smiles at Luna kindly.

“Miss Lovegood, how are you tonight?” Dumbledore asks, and the Gamma nods.

“I’m well, Professor,” Luna replies dreamily.

“Do you want a Lemon Drop?”

“No thank you Professor,”

“Forgive me for asking Miss Lovegood, but can you tell me why were you out after curfew?” Dumbledore asks gently, and there’s a tense silence as Luna tilts her head.

“I was with my lover.”

It takes the adults a few seconds to fully comprehend Luna’s words due to the dreamy cadence of said words. Hermione even blinks rapidly at Luna.

“Seriously? _This_ is why you called us here? _Who the bloody hell cares who Lovegood fucks?!_” Bella screams at the Pink Toad, and the Alpha woman flinches hard. There’s an awkward silence for several minutes, and the Pink Toad flounders.

“Minister Riddle, sir! These two don’t matter; I have a student who confessed to me about an illegal meeting within Hogwarts!” The Pink Toad blurts, and she bustles out the office.

“Ladies, I hope you two used protection.” Professor McGonagall says to them sternly, and Luna nods.

“Oh yes, Professor,” She says dreamily, and Hermione feels herself smiling at the devious little thing next to her. The Pink Toad soon returns, this time half guiding half pulling a student with her.

“Minister Riddle, sir, may I present Omega Marietta Edgecombe,” The Pink Toad simpers.

* * *

Everyone stares at Edgecombe, or what they can see. The Ravenclaw Omega is covering her face with her robes, and her whole body shakes as she whimpers.

“Well dear, tell them what you told me,” The Pink Toad coos, clutching her fingers around the Omega’s shoulders. Edgecombe just shakes her head, and Hermione glimpses a bloodshot eye staring widely in her direction before her robes shield her face again.

“Come on now, tell them,” The Pink Toad says, and Hermione can hear restrained tension behind her smile. Edgecombe just sags to the floor—the Pink Toad lurching as she’s almost dragged down as well—and starts sobbing. The Pink Toad snarls, and hauls the Omega up. Her angry Alpha pheromones burst out, and Hermione retches at the overpowering stink of bubblegum.

“_Tell them—_”

“Dolores.” Minister Riddle and Dumbledore growl at the same time, and the Pink Toad freezes. Her Alpha pheromones suck back into her body, and she cowers before the two powerful Alpha’s

“I may accept that you have the power to accuse my students of crimes they did not commit, but you do not have the power to harm any of them. Do I make myself clear?” Dumbledore says, and a tinge of his Alpha voice laces his words.

“We are going to talk about this in my office.” Minister Riddle orders, and the Pink Toad pales.

“Minister Riddle, sir—” She starts, dropping Edgecombe and taking a step towards Minister Riddle. Suddenly, Harry bursts into the office.

“Professor Dumbledore! Sirius is—!” He yells, halting himself when he sees the scene. The Pink Toad whirls on him, pointing a finger accusingly at the Alpha.

“Conspiracy with a known murderer and Death Eater ally!” She cries. Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall share a look, and Minister Riddle takes another deep breath.

“Black was pardoned . . . However,” He turns to Dumbledore. “Black is a suspect on the second part.”

“No!” Harry yells. Professor McGonagall rushes over to Hermione’s side, trying to shield them from whatever happens. Bella rises her wand lazily, but suddenly a streak of silver light flashes around the room. Everyone is thrown back, and Hermione wraps herself protectively around Luna.

When the dust clears, not a single person is left standing. Minister Riddle struggles to get to his knees, while Bella holds herself against the wall, her shield flickering around her. The Pink Toad is knocked out under a pile of books, and Edgecombe is curled up on the floor, whimpering pathetically. Hermione’s darts around the charred office, realizing that Fawkes is gone, and so is Dumbledore.

Alpha Phineas Nigellus snickers from his portrait.

≠ “You know Minister, I disagree with Dumbledore on many counts . . . But you cannot deny he’s got style.” ≠

* * *

Hermione feels Hogwarts herself reaching out to her. She stands, and while still holding Luna, she grabs Edgecombe’s arm. In a soft snap, Hogwarts whisks them away. Minister Riddle, Bella, and Professor McGonagall feel the small ripple, and stare at where the three students were. Minister Riddle stands, and brushes the dust off himself.

“It seems Hogwarts has a penchant for choosing Slytherin women as her Champions,” He muses thoughtfully, and Bella smirks.

“Well if she chose me, then Hogwarts’ future expectations have to be brilliant.” Bella drawls.

* * *

Hermione, Luna, and Edgecombe reappear in the Chamber of Secrets. Immediately, Edgecombe starts screaming, crawling away from them. Luna sways next to Hermione, and she stares dreamily at the pleading traitor with a smile. Growling, Hermione lashes out her Thrall at the Omega, dragging her by her ankles back towards them. Edgecombe’s screams climb an octave.

“Omega Marietta Edgecombe, Hogwarts’ _betrayer,_” Hermione purrs darkly. She readies her Thrall, whipping it at Edgecombe, and the Omega howls as her body writhes and thrashes on the floor. Luna starts humming her tune. Hermione’s Thrall picks Edgecomb up, then slams her back down on the stone floor.

Keeping her pinned, Hermione stares down at her with amused eyes.

“What your punishment should be is up to Luna. You dishonored her House and betrayed our cause after all,” Hermione murmurs, reigning in her Thrall. The silence only penetrated by Edgecombe’s gasps. Hermione idly thinks she should hand over Edgecombe to Padma, but decides against it.

“Hmm,” Luna’s muses. “Trial of Blood.” She says in her dreamy voice, and Edgecombe gasps in horror. Hermione laughs, and unsheathes her _Black Blade_. At those words, Edgecombe starts thrashing, begging for mercy, but it falls on deaf ears. Hermione leaps on top of Edgecombe, pinning her to the ground with her weight.

‡_Asssccclepiusss, rissse to witnesssss your Sssueensss’ [Queen’s] betrayer,_‡ She hisses, and she hears the echoing hiss. Asclepius slithers out of Merlin statue’s mouth, eyes closed and he bares his fangs. Edgecombe’s screams cut off as she stares at the Basilisk.

‡_Wasss it worth it? I warned you all there would be dire consssequencccesss for betrayal, traitor,_‡ Hermione hisses in Edgecombe’s face. The Omega whimpers shrilly, and Asclepius starts to circle them.

‡_Oh my, you are jussst the weakessst prey I’ve hunted. Now let’sss sssee what my blood curssse did to you,_‡ Hermione hisses tauntingly, and she slices her prey’s robes open.

The Omega tries to cover herself, but it doesn’t work. Every part of her body is marred with dark, purple, and black bruises. Small flesh wounds slowly tear themselves apart to allow beads of blood to seep up. Luna doesn’t pause in her humming.

‡_Ssspeaker-Sssueensss-Usssurper [Speaker-Queen-Usurper], may I poissson your prey?_‡ Asclepius hisses, and the prey starts to heave sobs of defeat.

‡_Hmm, perhapsss not thisss time my Asssccclepiusss, the prey isss too weak to even withstand a sssingle drop of your poissson._‡ Hermione hisses, and spins her Blade between her fingers.

“_Rejoice prey, for you shall be the first to bleed for your King,_” Hermione purrs in her Alfā voice as she begins cutting.

* * *

The Pink Toad assumes the role of Headmistress, and creates the ≠ Inquisitorial Squad ≠ from Slytherin House. Unsurprisingly, she puts Draco in charge, and he, Millicent, Pansy, Vincent, Gregory, Graham, and Theodore all wear tiny silver “I” badges on their robes. In Draco’s case, his Inquisitorial Squad badge is under his Prefect badge.

Of course, what the Pink Toad doesn’t know that the whole Squad is in the H.G., and therefore all actually use their new position to keep students safe from the Pink Toad. Sometime after the seven were appointed, Draco pulled Hermione aside before dinner, muttering that Argus wants to see her.

Intrigued, she and Draco walk to the old Delta man’s office. Argus sneers at Draco, and Mrs. Norris hisses at the Alpha.

“Get out, your job is done!’ Argus growls, and Draco rolls his eyes, but he leaves.

“Whenever you decide to . . . You know . . . Get rid of _her_—I don’t want to clean up a big mess!” Argus says tightly, and Mrs. Norris butts her head against the Delta’s hand.

“I’ll try my best to make sure that won’t happen.” Hermione says, and Argus nods.

* * *

It was positively beautiful in the castle for the next few weeks. The Weasley twins have taken it upon themselves to stir up a constant, medium range of chaos to keep the Pink Toad running around the castle. Hermione even tracks down Peeves to make him cause as much mischief as he can, and he obeys eagerly.

Currently, the Pink Toad is late to oversee Hermione’s career advice with Professor Snape in his office.

≠ “Well, Miss Mendonica, this meeting is to talk over any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide which subjectsyou should continue into sixth and seventh years. Have you had any thoughts about what you would like to do after you leave Hogwarts?” ≠ He drawls.

“I think I’d like to travel, or become an Unspeakable.” She says, and Professor Snape raises an eyebrow.

“I have here that you were recommended on the watch list for potential Aurors.” He says, clasping his hands together.

“I doubt training to be an Auror would satisfy me.” She scoffs, and Professor Snape nods.

“As I thought. The character and aptitude tests of the Auror Program are quite lacking in quality.” He sneers, and they feel a rumble shake the castle. A dragon firework whizzes past the window, and they hear a high pitched scream of frustration.

“Fifty points for orchestrating a working mutiny.” Professor Snape drawls.

* * *

“What the bloody hell is _this_ doing here?!” Daphne exclaims, gesturing at the swamp blocking a highly trafficked corridor.

“Oh! Cool! How deep does it go?” Astoria asks, ready to jump in had Millicent and Pansy not grabbed the back of her robes. Fred and George round the corner, bringing with them a crowd of cheering students. The Inquisitorial Squad is interspersed in the crowd, hiding in plain sight when the Pink Toad arrives.

“You two! Squad! Arrest them!” The Pink Toad thunders, looking around for the members of the Squad.

“Don’t bother calling your dogs, Toad!” Fred shouts.

“We bagged them up tight!” George pumps his fist in the air.

“By the order of the Ministry—”

“Screw your Ministry! Ready Forge?” Fred says to his twin.

“Always Gred!” George replies, and they summon their brooms. The Pink Toad splutters, but her words are drowned out when the twins set off more of their dragon fireworks. The crowd bursts into a roaring cheer, and the twins take off into the air, flying above the students to the courtyard, where they set off even greater fireworks.

* * *

Many students follow Fred and George’s lead, and start pranking the Pink Toad. The Inquisitorial Squad aren’t trying very hard to do their jobs correctly, and even though the Pink Toad keeps recruiting more, they just obey the older members, and by proxy, Hermione. Another new development is the Weasley twin’s Skiving Snackboxes are a high demand to escape the Pink Toad’s class.

Peeves has upgraded himself to a right menace as he relishes in his new freedom of punishment. With all of this, Hermione almost forgets about the last Quidditch match of the season with Slytherin facing off against Ravenclaw. However, Luna pulls her over near the start of the match.

“Luna?” Hermione asks, but the Gamma just skips on, leading her towards the Dark Forest.

“I want to see Mr. Hagrid’s Giant,” She says dreamily. They skirt widely around the Pink Toad, trailing Hagrid as he constantly checks over his shoulder and grips his crossbow tightly. Hermione is willing to bet galleons that the Centaurs of the Dark Forest aren’t very happy with Hagrid hiding a Giant in their territory.

Luna and Hermione track Hagrid further into the Forest until a strong stench starts to linger. Hermione clasps her hand to her nose, and her eyes water, but Luna’s unaffected. They crouch behind a tree, watching Hagrid lift his lantern and coo at the kidnapped Giant.

“It’s okay Grawp, yer big brother’s here, er, big half-brother, but yer don’t care about that,” Hagrid says to the sleeping Giant. Hermione and Luna share a look, and keep listening. Hagrid sits down next to his half-brother.

“I’ll find someone ter look after ya when I get sacked, they’ll teach ya English,” Hagrid says forlornly. Hermione’s jaw drops at the stupidity of the Half-Giant. Luna grasps her hand, and begins to lead her away.

“Grawp should be free.” The Gamma says dreamily, and Hermione grunts in agreement.

“I wonder what Giants eat,” Luna wonders aloud, and an idea sparks in Hermione’s mind.

* * *

Just as the pair spot the tree line out of the Dark Forest, Hermione hears the Centaurs. They stop, waiting as the herd suddenly emerges from the trees, trotting in a circle around them. Instantly, whispers start up at the sight of them, and all the Centaurs lower their bows and spears. Hermione steps forwards a familiar Centaur and speaks.

§Bane of the Dark Forest, my heart sides with you and the Forest. The giant must go.§ She nickers. Bane’s tight face relaxes, and the herd stows their weapons. A big Centaur steps forwards.

§I am Magorian of the Dark Forest, and the stars wish to tell you; Offspring Under Mars’ Light of the Dark Forest; that you stand where you fall,§ Magorian neighs, and the herd gallops away.

* * *

Back in the Slytherin Common Room, a raging party for winning the House Cup again for the ninth year in a row is in full swing. The moment Hermione enters, Astoria jumps her, hugging her and speaking a kilometer a minute about the match. Daphne walks tipsily over to her, an empty cup in her hand, and she wraps her arms around Hermione’s arm. So she ends up being sandwiched by the Greengrass sisters.

The thrill of winning keeps the Slytherins going through the week of review and for O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s and the actual exam week. During her third exam, someone snuck a Niffler in the Pink Toad’s office; the second one in two days; and practically everyone heard her screams.

However, that was the last straw for the Pink Toad, and the vile Alpha sought her revenge against the one she thought supplied the Niffler. It was during Hermione’s Astronomy when a shout drew her attention to the ground far below. Swiveling her telescope towards the moving figure, and she morphed her eye into a cat’s. The Pink Toad stalked towards Hagrid’s Hut, shouting orders to five Aurors behind her pompously.

The Aurors surrounded the Hut, and leveled their wands at the door. A loud bang made the other students angle their telescopes in the Hut’s direction. The Aurors rushed into the Hut, and the furious roars of Hagrid shook the air. The Half-Giant was dragged out of his home with his fists swinging at the Aurors. The Aurors retaliated, and one stunner hit Fang.

Hagrid roared louder, and launched himself at the Aurors. A distant slamming of doors sounded, and Professor McGonagall was seen running towards Hagrid, screaming at the Aurors. The Pink Toad shouted something, and four stunners hit Professor McGonagall in the chest, sending her flying.

Screams of shock rang out from the students around Hermione, and even the proctor gasped. Hagrid wailed, and he picked up Fang before he disappeared into the Dark Forest.

* * *

The castle seems darker the next day, and Hermione can practically feel Hogwarts itself become saddened by the oppressive force in it. She finishes her final exam; History of Magic; early, and so she waits outside the Great Hall where the Slytherins are still working. Leaning against a wall, hidden in the shadows, a wave of sleepiness drags at her, and Hermione succumbs.

* * *

_She’s slithering with purpose as the door she’s been guarding opens for her. Hermione enters a spherical room with many doors, the snake slithering confidently through one of the doors. The snake continues on, the black tile under her scrapping against her scales. Odd dancing lights bob, and she hears a clicking akin to a clock, but those don’t deter the snake. She enters a third door, and she’s in a cavernous size room._

_Hermione can see shelves upon shelves stacked high into the darkness of the ceiling, all filled with glass orbs of different shapes and sizes. The images weave through the rows, and the images pan left, past the small plaque reading ninety-seven.Then a pair of black shoes enter the images’ view. The snake hisses warmly, the images rising up. They tilt a bit, and a dark chuckle sounds above Hermione, a hand sliding off the snake’s head._

_A writhing figure on the ground slumps, panting._

_“Go on . . .A little more . . .” Minister Riddle’s dark voice hisses, and the snake flicks her tongue. Hermione can practically taste blood in the air. The woman on the floor lets out a piercing scream, and she flinches for some reason. Minister Riddle waves his hand lazily._

_“_Crucio._” He drawls, and the woman howls, thrashing. Minister Riddle sigshs, and snaps his fingers, releasing the curse. The woman slumps, whimpering. Blood-soaked, platinum-blond hair splayed out on the black floor slowly rises, as the Veela looks up defiantly. Cerulean-blue eyes struggling to bleed into red narrow._

_“I’d rather die.” Her face marred, Fleur Delacour hisses fiercely. Hermione rears back, the snake jerking her head back as well. She catches a glimpse of a thrashing snake high above them inside a sphere of magic._

_“Perhaps, but what of_ her? _Once you are gone, I shall have my way . . ._ Completely_, with her, she shall never_ think _of anyone else, she shall_ obey _no one else.” Minister Riddle purrs, and Fleur snarls, trying to attack him, but he sends another_ Crucio _at her. She roars in pain, and suddenly the snake starts shivering, the images blurring, and then, nothing._

— . —

_Imperio_ = Unforgivable Imperious Curse

_Crucio._ = Unforgivable Cruciatus Curse 2x


	9. A Little Bit Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione infiltrates the easily infiltratable Ministry!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Infiltratable a word? No. But I'm using it anyway!

Hermione wakes with as gasp, eyes wide as she lurches away from the wall. She stumbles down the empty hall, her mind still replaying her vision. Is this a trap? Could she have seen something false? She has no idea whether or not her visions hold any truth in them. Except the content are things Hermione would never dream up of, and they turned out to be real.

Hermione takes a deep breath, and straightens her back. Rushing in blindly won’t help Fleur, nor will making a plan based on improvisation. So she must think about this logically. First she has to infiltrate the Ministry, and then follow Tyche’s Familiar bond to where they are.

Although she doesn’t know if the magical sphere the Horned Serpent was held in blocked the bond, since Tyche would have already _Slither-Syasasioned_ to Hermione’s side. Suddenly her right wrist enflames in heat as if she stuck it in molten glass. Hissing, Hermione drops to her knee as her H.G. Tattoo throbs.

Instantly, words start crowding her Tattoo, the rest of the H.G. trying to figure out where the hurting members are. Hermione rubs her Tattoo, sending her magic through it. Suddenly, a single sentence forms on the outside of her Tattoo.

_Your Queen is held in the Pink Toad’s lair ~ Great Horned Owl_

Hermione morphs and takes off in a dead sprint in her Direwolf form.

* * *

Students are just starting to finish their exams, and many scream when they see Hermione. Purple clouds her vision when she thinks of what the Pink Toad could be doing to her friends, to her _pack_. Hermione doesn’t morph back when she arrives at the Pink Toad’s office, no, she fluidly morphs into her Werewolf form.

It’s only a little matter of ripping the door off its hinges by the handle, and zeroing her purple-glazed attention onto the terrified Pink Toad. Hermione takes stock of everything in seconds.

Draco; unconscious with Pansy hovering over him protectively while she presses Omega Tracey behind her.

Harold and Neville; gagged and bound by their wrists to the ceiling.

Ron; tied to the fireplace, struggling not to allow gravity win and deposit him into the roaring fire.

Harry; tied to a chair, frothing at the mouth as he tries to spit up yellow liquid.

Beta Tracey; writing meaningless words over and over with a Blood Quill, her glazed eyes seeing nothing.

Astoria; bloody and beaten, but snarling with a feral intensity as she thrashes against her chains.

And Daphne; curled up in a fetal position, her body still jerking from the aftershocks of the _Cruciatus Curse_.

Hermione surges forwards with her eyes shining a brilliant purple, morphing once more. The Pink Toad has no time to scream as Hermione sinks her fangs into a plump neck and her serpentine coils whip around the Alpha woman’s fat body. In the next second, Hermione _Slither-Syasasions_ the Pink Toad and she into the Dark Forest.

* * *

The Pink Toad starts screaming as she thrashes on the Forest floor, trying to rip Hermione’s coils off her. Hermione bites down harder, and squeezes more. The Pink Toad gags, and Hermione tastes blood. Disgusted, she detaches her fangs from the Pink Toad’s neck, and unwinds herself so fast the Pink Toad is thrown across the Forest floor.

While the Pink Toad hacks, scrounging around in the dirt and leaf litter for her wand, Hermione morphs back into her regular form. Her shoe brushes up against the shorn end of a thick rope, and Hermione looks up. Grawp the Giant is nowhere to be found, but Hermione’s not concerned.

There are other ways to dispose of the Pink Toad. Speaking of the devil, the vile Alpha suddenly groans in pain. Hermione looks down at her, watching with a rapt interest as she sees black veins starting to pulse to life in the beat of the Pink Toad’s heartless soul.

“W-w-whagh ghavf yough dongh?” The Pink Toad gurgles as she clutches her neck. Hermione traces a black spotted blood leaking from the corner of ugly lips. Hermione smirks.

“Who me? Well, I poisoned you. For you see,” Hermione pauses, and then morphs her vocal cords to let out a chilling, summoning howl. Distantly, she hears an answering howl.

“Horned Serpents are also known as the Great Venom Elementals.” She says cheerfully, and then the thundering of hooves announces the presence of the Centaurs. They gallop around Hermione and the Pink Toad, shouting war cries and brandishing their weapons. The Pink Toad’s scream clogs in her throat, and she coughs up a clot of blood.

Hermione spreads her arms, grandly, and Bane and Ronan flank her, aiming their bows at the Pink Toad.

§Centaurs of the Dark Forest! I give you a gift on behalf of Hogwarts herself! This prime breeding stock holds the venom of a Horned Serpent in it’s body, which I myself have implanted,§ Hermione neighs loudly, and the herd roars their approval.

§Offspring Under Mar’s Light of the Dark Forest, we of the herd accept your gift and your venom!§ Bane brays, and he canters forwards to snatch one of the Pink Toad’s arms. Ronan takes the other, and they lead the herd deeper into the Forest with the screaming Pink Toad dangling between them.

* * *

Hermione morphs into her Horned Serpent form, and _Slither-Syasasions_ back into the Pink Toad’s office. It’s completely empty, and all the restrains are unlocked or cut. Hermione sniffs the air, and then whips her head around to the doorway. Luna stares with a hollow look to her eyes at Hermione.

Deep bags sag under the Gamma’s eyes, and she gives a tired smile to Hermione.

“There is always a price, my Liege-Lady, no matter what, there always is,” Luna murmurs in a weak voice. Hermione morphs back and strides forwards to envelop the Gamma in a hug. Luna’s smaller body shudders, and she sighs longingly. Hermione’s eyes widen when she sees a soft, white glow emitting from Luna’s eyes.

“We cannot speak long in this worn, true avatar,” Luna says in a haunting, echoey voice, and the Gamma looks at Hermione with her pure white eyes.

“_THERE IS STRENGTH IN OUR AVATAR’S ACTIONS, FOR IN SUCH EVEN WE MUST BOW TO THE SUCCULENT MOUTHS OF DEATH,_” Luna murmurs, and she starts to shake.

“_SIX THOU SHALT FIND, BUT BEWARE, WITHOUT THE GUIDING STAR, ALL WILL BE LOST._” Luna gasps, and the white light inside her winks out. Instantly, the Gamma faints, and Hermione grips her tighter. Her H.G. Tattoo warms a little to hot for Luna. She picks up the Gamma bridal style and brushes her magic against a wall, silently pleading Hogwarts to open a door.

The castle listens, and a wooden door emerges from the wall and opens. Hermione strides through it, and stares down at Luna. Something eternal and powerful uses Luna and Professor Trelawney as mouthpieces, and Hermione has a feeling she knows what it is. Another few steps, and she enters the Hospital Wing, the door disappearing behind her.

“Lurch! How’d you get in—is that Luna!” Harold cries out from his bed. Madam Pomfrey; who is stuffing _Blood-Replenishing_ potions down Beta Tracey’s throat; whirls around.

“You! Bring her here quickly!” The Omega woman orders, and Hermione hurries to the empty bed Madam Pomfrey points her to.

“What’s wrong with her?!” Neville asks, trying to get out of bed, but he struggles with even lifting the covers from his torso. Likewise, the rest of Hermione’s friends and pack are magically stuck to their beds. Draco is still unconscious, and so are Harry, and Ron.

“Give me space girl!—What happened to her?” Madam Pomfrey demands, waving her wand over Luna’s prone form.

“I think she used too much magic,” Hermione says, and steps back. Luna’s words swirl in her mind, and then Omega Tracey speaks up.

“Madam Pomfrey! I can help you! I can help Luna!” She speaks up, and Madam Pomfrey purses her lips. However, Hermione’s mind casts back to where Luna introduced Omega Tracey as her friend.

“‘Master guide in sensing auras,’” Hermione murmurs to herself, and she stares at the Omega. Pansy; in the bed next to Omega Traceys; notices her stare, and narrows her eyes. Daphne, who finally manages to throw her covers off, shakily stands, and fortunately Madam Pomfrey is too concerned with Luna to notice.

Daphne stealthily sneaks over to Astoria’s bed, and the young Alpha stops thrashing for her sister to help her out. Hermione feels her Tattoo wriggle, and she glances down at it. There are two sentences outside her Tattoo.

_Whatever you’re planning, I am coming with you ~ Siberian Tiger_

_Where you go, so shall I ~ Timber Wolf_

Hermione looks up at the Greengrass sisters, seeing their strong determination in their eyes. She nods, and looks back at Luna. If the eternal power wanted her to find six others, then Hermione would listen. She presses her Tattoo, sending a private message to Pansy, Omega Tracey, Daphne, Astoria, Harold, and Neville.

_Will you all help me rescue Fleur from Death Eaters? ~ Ancient Chimoretis_

Pansy snorts quietly, and sends a private message.

_Finally, I never thought I’d be invited on one of your adventures, ~ Wasp_

Hermione rolls her eyes, and switches her attention to Madam Pomfrey. Gently flinging her Thrall around the Omega woman, Hermione makes her fall asleep standing up. Hermione skims her Thrall across the beds, releasing the magic weighing their occupants down.

“Hold onto my arm,” Hermione orders, and the six hurriedly obey. Daphne’s still shivering from the aftershocks of the Unforgivable, so Hermione presses her Thrall around the Beta. Daphne gasps, and her eyes flick up to Hermione’s.

“Hogwarts, if you will,” Hermione says, and she feels the _Anti-Disapparation Jinx_ bend around them.

“Brace yourself,” Hermione warns, and she Side-Apparates them away.

* * *

They reappear in front of the visitor’s entrance to the Ministry of Magic in London under the night sky. Immediately, the six groan and dry heave.

“Ugh—horrible—why?” Harold gasps, leaning heavily against Neville.

“That was a bitch move,” Pansy growls, holding Omega Tracey close to her.

“I did tell you to brace yourself,” Hermione says, and herds them into the battered telephone box. She punches two-four-four-two into the dial, and a female voice speaks, asking for their names and reason for the visit. Daphne grimaces, holding her stomach in pain, and Hermione layers more Thrall around her.

“Amber, Green, Purple, Silver, White, Yellow, and Gold are here for a retrieval task.” Hermione says clearly. The magical lift activates, and they sink down.

“Okay Lurch, what’s the game plan?” Harold whispers.

“And why do you need Tracey?” Pansy adds gruffly, and the Omega’s eyes light up at that. Hermione turns to look at the pair.

“Luna said that we needed you to find Fleur.” She says, and Omega Tracey nods.

“Got it.” She says, takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes.

“Um, what is she doing?” Astoria asks, and Pansy hisses at her. Astoria blinks, a disgruntled expression forming on her face. Daphne gives Pansy a mild side glare.

“Concentrating—now shut up.” Pansy snaps, and Harold and Neville look over at the Omega curiously. The lift dings, and the doors open to the Atrium.

“Fleur’s somewhere in the Department of Mysteries,” Hermione says, and the group hurry around a giant fountain to another lift.

“Merlin! Really?! If we weren’t breaking into one of the Ministry’s most infamous Departments I’d be so stoked!” Harold drawls sarcastically, and Astoria cuffs him on his shoulder lightly.

“Don’t you know how to hunt properly? You have to be _quiet_, Merlin, I have no idea what Tracey sees in you,” The young Alpha grumbles.

“_Quiet!_” Pansy hisses, and the lift opens the doors to the Department of Mysteries. She starts down the hall, looking left and right at the doors branching off from the main hall.

“Do you feel her?” Hermione whispers to Omega Tracey, and the Omega scrunches up her nose.

“I think? There’s some kind of white noise that seems to be blocking everything,” She murmurs.

“Most likely Fleur is where the white noise is the loudest to mask her presence,” Neville says, and Pansy rolls her eyes.

“Well duh—”

“Just let Neville stretch his Auror skills,” Daphne says curtly, and Pansy shuts her mouth. Suddenly, Omega Tracey stops, her eyes snapping open.

“I found her!” She gasps, and darts past Hermione. They hurry after her, and after passing three more offshoot halls, Omega Tracey turns left.

“Damn! It’s locked!” Omega Tracey mutters, and steps aside when Hermione gently pushes her to the side. She raises a little tendril of her magic to unlock the door, but it swings open for her.

“Oh that’s definitely a trap,” Daphne mutters. Hermione peers through the doorway, seeing the same spherical chamber with identical doors that she saw in her vision.

“Don’t freak out,” Hermione says, and morphs a hand into a paw. Everyone flinches, and Pansy even swears, pulling Omega Tracey close. Hermione scores a giant “X” into the door, and Harold shivers at the sound of her claws raking the wood.

“I didn’t know you could change only parts of yourself,” Daphne says, and Pansy whirls on her.

“You knew?!”

“Questions later Pansy!” Hermione snaps, and stalks forwards. The rest follow her, and as soon as Neville walks through, the door slams shut behind him. Immediately, the doors around them spin into a blur, then settle again. Hermione’s “X” marked door is now in front of them.

“So, shall we try the doors?” Harold asks.

“No . . . It’s that one,” Omega Tracey says, heading over to a door in the direct opposite of the one Hermione marked. She opens it, and reveals a clock room.

“Good work Tracey,” Hermione says, hurrying past her and the Omega preens with praise. Pansy huffs, but reluctantly ushers Omega Tracey to the front with Hermione while she positions herself at the end.

Hermione has to duck hanging clocks as they walk along the narrow path. The room is filled to the brim with all sorts of timepieces, and she has the curious feeling of walking through stasis. They pass a hummingbird stuck in a continuous cycle of hatching and reforming, and it occurs to Hermione that this is the fabled Time Chamber.

Omega Tracey tugs on Hermione’s robes, and silently points to a door cloaked in shadow, halfway hidden behind an old desk. Nodding to the Omega, they deviate off the cleared path and towards the door. Carefully pushing it away, she raises her hand, and it too opens silently. Hermione rubs her H.G. Tattoo, sending a private message to the six behind her.

_Be on high alert for any Death Eaters ~ Ancient Chimoretis_

When the six draw their wands, and Daphne gives her a nod, Hermione leads them through the door.

* * *

A cool draft caresses Hermione’s face as she walks in the pitch darkness. The heavy silence swallows the sound of their footsteps, and the tense feeling of being watched falls over them. There are no screams of pain, no flare of distressed magic, nor even the dark presence of something malevolent. There’s nothing here except aisles upon aisles of glass orbs.

Hermione morphs her eyes to adjust to the dark, and only Pansy lights a _Lumos_, and even then, she covers it a little with her robes. Hermione feels her H.G. Tattoo wriggle, and she looks down at a sentence outside her Tattoo.

_I’m sorry Hermione—I can’t feel her here over the white noise ~ Meerkat_

She ignores all the messages inside her Tattoo, and pats Omega Tracey’s shoulder comfortingly.

“Look for aisle ninety-seven,” Hermione whispers, and starts pinging sharp notes in Velian. There’s no reply. The others start looking around, keeping close together as they scan the shelves. Daphne lengthens her stride, coming up to Hermione’s side to grasp Hermione’s hand. Omega Tracey falls back to allow them a little privacy.

“We’ll find her,” The Beta whispers, and Hermione squeezes her hand. Suddenly, they come to the first cross section in the endless rows of glass orbs, and there are three rows that start with eighty.

“Should we split up?” Omega Tracey asks. Hermione grimaces, but slowly nods.

“Alright . . . Neville go with Astoria, Harold go with Daphne, and I will go with Pansy and Tracey—_and no arguing about your partners!_” Hermione orders, and Daphne squeezes her hand once before she lets go. Grumbling under her breath, Astoria grabs Neville who lights up his wand and they take the left aisle.

Daphne and Harold light up their wands, and proceed carefully down the middle aisle, leaving Hermione, Omega Tracey, and Pansy to take the right aisle.

* * *

As they walk, Hermione notices how the aisle subtly starts to angle more to the right, and Pansy notices it too.

“We’re getting further from the others,” She mutters, waving her wand over the plaques of the glass orbs.

“How’s the white noise?” Hermione asks Omega Tracey, and the Omega scrunches up her eyebrows.

“The same I think? It’s _quieter_ here, if that makes sense, like, uh, like how you try to not wake up a fellow dorm mate or something,” Omega Tracey says, and Pansy narrows her eyes.

“Why are you just now taking an interest in Tracey? Huh? Let’s face it, she wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need her.” The Alpha says, her tone accusing. Hermione ignores her, and sniffs the stale air. There’s nothing but dust—a cold draft tickles Hermione’s cheeks, and with it comes a faint trace of blood. Veela Blood.

Immediately, Hermione whirls around, grabs Pansy and Omega Tracey’s wrists, and takes off in a fast jog towards the scent. Both girls yelp, and Pansy hisses something that’s covered by Omega Tracey’s shocked gasp. Hermione jerks to a halt, whipping her head in the direction the Omega is staring at.

Through the aisle shelves, Hermione gasps when she sees Harold and Daphne. The former is sprawled unconscious eagle-spread on the floor, his wand still in his hand, while Daphne is crumpled against the shelf. Pansy growls, and pivots on her heel, aiming her wand at the darkness around them.

Hermione steps closer to Daphne, and reaches past the glass orbs to lay her hand over the Beta’s. Instead of cold and clammy like she feared, Daphne’s hand is hot. Frowning, she grasps the Beta’s hand, and knocks the orb that was resting under Daphne’s hand free. Hermione watches it roll, and then at the last second realizes that it’s going to fall off the shelf on her side.

She snaps out her hand to catch the orb—it burns her as if it’s been baking in the desert—white fog rushes in and floods Hermione’s senses.

* * *

_“Pansy? Tracey? Are you here?” Hermione whispers, blinking her eyes rapidly at the high overexposure of the pure brilliance of the fog. She takes a step, but it seems as if she hasn’t moved at all. A child’s laugh of joy behind her startles Hermione, and she leaps to the side. A shape emerges from the fog, and two small girls skip hand in hand towards Hermione._

_“Excuse me, can you tell me where—” Hermione starts to ask, but the children skip right past her, giggling to each other. Seeing no other option, Hermione follows them. The girl on the right has dark-red hair pulled back into a neat and prim ponytail, and she holds a stuffed animal Phoenix. The girl on the left has silvery-blond hair that flows in a bob around her face. Both have big blue eyes._

_Suddenly, a door materializes out of the fog, and the girls lose their happy, carefree expressions.._

_“**I wish we could show that we’re friends.**” The blond says softly in French, and lets go of the redhead’s hand. The redhead quickly grasps the blond’s hand, her eyes narrowing in a fierce, childish show of righteous fury. They can’t be older than nine or ten, so the power of the redhead’s expression is overwhelmed by her childlike pouting._

_“**When I grow up, I’ll get rid of the feud, and everyone can be friends!**” She exclaims passionately, and the blond brightens. She wraps the redhead in a tight hug, and then, almost like an afterthought, plants a kiss on the redhead’s cheek. Both girls blush, and the blond steps back with a mischievous smile._

_“**See you tomorrow Miss E!**” She says, and darts away._

_“**See you Miss G!**” The redhead calls after the blond. Hermione watches her wistful look fade, and a harder look enters those blue eyes. The girl knocks on the door, and slowly pushes it open._

_“**Maman?**” The redhead murmurs gently, hiding the toy Phoenix behind her back. Through the door, is a bland, but elegant room. Detailed stone patterns decorate every wall, and wooden furniture furnish the room. A large wooden chair faces a wall bare of anything, and a single hand on the armrest reveals that there is anyone in the chair._

_“**I bought you something from the market,**” The redhead says, slowly approaching the chair._

_“**Greetings, my descendant.**” The woman from the chair rasps, and both Hermione and the redhead freeze._

_“**I’m your daughter Maman, remember?**” The redhead says, and she nears the chair’s armrest. She reaches to touch the hand lying there._

_“**Not you,**” The woman moves her hand away from the redhead’s touch, and the girl drops her arm as if she’s been burned._

_“**You treat your daughter terribly,**” Hermione growls, and the woman chuckles._

_“**I know my little pet, now **_ **you_, you are more interesting to me . . . And to _Him** _**.**” The woman replies, and the redhead looks around the room, her eyes wide with fear._

_“**Maman, who are you talking—**”_

“WALK AWAY AWAY, SOUL. I SPEAK NOT IN SILVERTONGUE; SO I TELL YOU THUS: I AM NOT THE ETERNAL HEART OF DEATH. I AM THE GLORIOUS SKULL OF DEATH, AND I COMMAND THEE, SOUL TO WALK AWAY. FORAGE ON, AND I SHALL WAGE A WAR TO SEE YOUR BONES FINALLY GRACE MY ARMOR._” The woman booms in a voice of rippling power. The woman raises her hand, and a clear, glass orb rests in her palm. She blows, and white smoke fills the orb._

_Suddenly, the woman gasps, and the orb drops from her hand. The redhead lunges forwards, drops the toy Phoenix, and catches the orb before it shatters on the ground. The woman moans, and she falls out of her chair. Hermione tries to move forwards, but her feet are glued to the floor._

_“**Maman!**” The redhead cries, shoving the orb away and crawling over to her mother. The chair blocks Hermione’s view, but she can hear the ragged breaths._

_“**Oh Gods—They know what He has done . . . Oh They **_ **know** _** . . . I am sorry, my descendant, I’m so, so, sorry,**” The woman wails, and the redhead shuffles closer to her mother._

_“**Go away whoever you are! Leave Maman alone!**” The redhead yells protectively._

_“**My sweet, sweet, baby girl, what have they done to you?**” The woman sobs, and then her voice hardens._

_“**Deliver this at once to the Hall of Prophecy, and don’t break it!**” The woman summons the orb._

_“**But that wasn’t a prophecy,**” The redhead whispers, and yelps when the woman pushes her roughly away. There’s the sound of scratching, and then the orb rolls towards the silently crying redhead._

_“**Did you not hear me?! GO!**” The redhead’s mother screams, and the redhead leaps to her feet, grabbing the orb. As she races past, her movements start to slow, and the white fog starts to seep into the room._

_“**Wait! What does it say?!**” Hermione twists around, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the orb. Hermione only sees the initials, R.J.M., before the white fog envelops her once more._

— . —

_Crucio_ = Unforgivable Cruciatus Curse

_A potion that replenishes the taker’s blood if they have been injured and lost blood_ = Blood-Replenishing Potion

_Contrarium Spectrum_ = Anti-Disapparition Jinx (Latin: Opposite Apparition)


	10. Branched Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione retrieves a prophecy, and Astoria is changed forever

“—still alive?” A sharp fingernail pokes Hermione’s cheek. She blinks, and the orb slips from her fingers, shattering when it hits the stone floor. Hermione jerks back at the ringing loudness of the sound, and she suddenly realizes she isn’t alone. Snarling, she tackles the person, trying to subdue them.

“_Merlin’s saggy balls!_ Fucking cut it out!” Alpha Bellatrix Black yowls, slapping Hermione soundly across her face. She freezes, and the Alpha woman punches her shoulder.

“What the bloody fuck was that for?!” Bella snarls, pushing Hermione off her.

“I thought you were a Death Eater,” She grumbles, getting to her feet and pulling Bella up with her. Bella snorts loudly.

“As if. What happened to them?” Bella points, and Hermione remembers what she was doing before she touched the orb. Looking behind her, she sees that Pansy and Omega Tracey are unconscious, and then she remembers the smell of Veela blood.

“Fleur—I have to—”

“Stop acting like a knot-headed Gryffindor and _think_.” Bella steps into her path, crossing her arms. Hermione hisses, baring her teeth, but pauses. She takes a deep sniff, catching a whiff of Veela blood. She tenses, and Bella’s eyes snap up to hers, the Alpha woman’s body poised to strike.

Hermione pushes past her first instinct to search out the Veela blood, and pushes deeper. She didn’t notice at first, but the blood is odd. It’s too sharp, and it still smells fresh like it was just spilled. Hermione takes in another breath, and Bella relaxes a fraction.

“She’s not bleeding out,” Hermione sighs in relief. The tension and adrenaline pumping through her body calms a little.

“Well, she was hours ago. Anyway, your Veela is now in a magical induced coma in my Manor—” Bella grunts as Hermione slams her against the shelves, protective rage contorting her face.

“_Why is she in your Manor?!_” Hermione roars in her Alfā voice, and Bella merely raises an eyebrow.

“She’s _resting_ on my couch after Narcissa _healed_ her. I _rescued_ her and your Familiar from the Death Eaters, thank you very much,” Bella drawls, and immense relief floods through Hermione. Fleur is _safe_.

“Anyway, this,” The Alpha gestures to Hermione’s unconscious friends.

“Is Dolohov’s work, he was always better at silent takedowns than the rest of his lot,”

“Can you reverse what he did?” Hermione asks cautiously, stepping back from Bella, and the Alpha woman rolls her shoulders.

“The fact that you even need to ask wounds me,” Bella fixes Hermione with a cold stare.

“I assume Potter got the ransom letter,” The Alpha woman says, and Hermione tilts her head.

“Why would _Harry_ get a ransom letter?” She asks suspiciously, and Bella shrugs.

“I just know that he’s practically family with the Weasley’s, and the oldest was getting close to Fleur. Although I cannot fathom why Tom would target Potter of all people,” Bella scoffs, and Hermione bristles at the mention Minister Riddle.

“What does _he_ want Harry here for?” Hermione asks, even though she slowly realizes she knows the answer.

“Probably to make Potter die attempting to hear his prophecy.” Bella drawls.

* * *

Hermione closes her eyes, thanking Rozanica that Harry was too incapacitated to come with her. What is it about him that makes everything want to kill him?

“Anyway, I see that my role as the glorified shepard isn’t needed, so I shall be taking your companions back to my Manor.” Bella says, and Hermione glances at Daphne, wondering if she saw what Hermione saw.

“You’ll be careful with them?” She asks, still looking at Daphne. Bella scoffs.

“Black House honor,” She drawls, and Hermione’s eyes widen. The Alpha woman smirks, and snaps her fingers. Five House-Elves dressed in black pillowcases appear next to her.

“What? Did you really think dear old, painted-hag Walburga wouldn’t share the news of a new Black family member with the House Head?” Bella says cockily, and she gestures for four of the House-Elves to collect Hermione’s friends. Hermione watches as they apparate them away to Bella’s Manor, and she hopes that Astoria and Neville are okay. Or if they were knocked unconscious it was quick and painless.

“Coming?” Bella says, holding her hand out for her House-Elf. Hermione shakes her head.

“I have to find Astoria and Neville first,”

Bella shrugs.

“Then Better Poppy will stay with you.” Bella drawls, and with a soft pop, she and the House-Elf are gone. In the next second, Better Poppy reappears, and bows low.

“Young Mistress! Better Poppy is honored to—” The House-Elf never finishes her sentence before a shockwave slams them to the floor and an explosion bursts.

* * *

Hermione grabs Better Poppy, crouching over the shivering House-Elf and tensing, waiting for glass orbs to rain down on them. But nothing happens. Sure, every single prophecy is shaking, the chittering sound of glass on glass sending forth a cascade of hisses that tears at their ears.

“We need to move!” Hermione hisses, and the sound of shaking of glass amps up. The fog in each prophecy stirs, lighting up the darkness with thousands of soft white-blue lights.

Get onto my back! Hermione squeaks in Gaëla, and morphs into her Direwolf form. Better Poppy obeys instantly, and another shockwave almost threatens to knock Hermione over, but she steadies herself. Once she regains her footing, Hermione takes off, racing down the aisle, and the floor seemingly shakes under her paws.

Better Poppy hunches down, flattening herself against Hermione’s back. Something pricks at Hermione’s instincts, and she cuts a sharp turn to the right, the House-Elf squeaking in fear on her back. She thinks she heard something, but she can’t be sure. Hermione pricks her ears, straining to block out the sound of glass skittering against glass.

_AAAARRROOOOOOOOOOOO!_

Hermione’s eyes widen at the hunting howl. Surely Minister Riddle didn’t bring a Werewolf here. Flattening her ears, she puts on an extra burst of speed, sprinting towards where the howl originated. If Minister Riddle has the Werewolf hunting her friends, then she’ll kill it. Her right forearm burns a little, then cools.

A softer shockwave ripples out, this one barely stirring the prophecies around them. It’s almost like an invitation.

_AAAAAAAAARRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!_

The Werewolf howls again, this time it’s a challenge howl. Hermione snarls, she throws back her head to let loose an answering howl. She hears the sound of spellfire, and Hermione cuts left sharply. A harsh glare of red flares in her face, and she lashes out her Thrall.

The Death Eater’s body tumbles backwards as his stunner rebounds and hits his face. Hermione takes a deep breath, filling her nostrils of with the scents of the Death Eaters, and the Werewolf. An enraged snarl from the Werewolf turns into a sharp yelp, and Hermione hears a thump and the rush of cloth.

Carefully, she steps over the Death Eater’s prone form, stalking forwards. Better Poppy stays deathly still, her eyes darting around fearfully. The Death Eaters know she’s here.

“Come out little boy! Play with us, or I start cutting off pieces of your mongrel!” A mocking voice calls, and Hermione silently snarls. Morphing out of her Direwolf form, Hermione gestures for Better Poppy to stay in the shadows. Silently, she walks forwards, blinking when the hard brilliance of lit wands light up.

The Death Eaters are in a loose circle at a cross section of seven aisles, all wearing black cloaks and their signature silver masks. In the middle of the circle, is a giant Timber Wolf on its side and bound tightly in thick rope. A Death Eater stands over the beast, a wand aimed at its head, but there’s no Neville.

“_There_ you are, we’ve been looking for you,” The Death Eater purrs, and Hermione narrows her eyes. The mask may distort his voice, but there’s no mistaking Alpha Rodolphus Lestrange’s voice. The giant Timber Wolf stirs when it sees Hermione, and Hermione stares into painfully familiar eyes.

“You know, you should collar your mutt, or someone else might claim her,” Lestrange sneers from behind his mask. Hermione’s eyes widen a fraction, and she looks over the giant Timber Wolf. The yearling is the size of a large pony with magnificent pale blond fur, and dark-green eyes with a large white spot in the left eye.

“Where’s Potter, girly,” Lestrange drawls, and Hermione glares at him.

“Oh he’s here, just not right _here_,” She smirks, lying smoothly. Another Death Eater steps forwards, aiming a wand at her.

“Tell us exactly where,” Alpha Rabastan Lestrange growls, and the rest of the Death Eaters shift menacingly. Hermione merely rolls her eyes, and clasps her hands behind her back nonchalantly. Carefully, she rubs her fingers on her H.G. Tattoo and focuses on Astoria and Neville. The giant Timber Wolf twitches when Hermione’s magic starts to fuel her.

“Harry’s too lazy to be bothered with grunt work,” Hermione says, and she scans the shelf plaques around her. They snag on number ninety-seven, and on the old, dusty prophecy. She can easily see a date; nineteen-forty-six; scored into the glass, but there are more words hidden by the orb’s curvature.

The Lestrange brothers exchange a look, and then turn Hermione.

“Summon the boy or we’ll—”

“_ACCIO MORE BRAINS!_” A shrill voice screams, and chaos erupts. Hermione lights her Cursed Fire on Astoria’s ropes, making sure they don’t burn the young Alpha’s fur, and the giant Timber Wolf surges to her paws. Five, giant, floating brains soar out of nowhere, tendrils dangling from the bottom unfurl towards the Death Eaters, making them scatter with terror.

Astoria roars, tackling the closest Death Eater to her, and Hermione darts towards Harry’s prophecy.

“_FOR URANUS!_”

The scream startles her, and Hermione freezes when she realizes it’s Neville. He’s riding one of the giant brains, his face drained of blood and splatters of red dotting around his lips.

“_GGGGGGGAAAAAHHHHHH!_” The Omega roars, and a Death Eater screams as Neville dives off the brain and body slams him.

#Alpha, I’m coming!# Astoria howls, throwing a Death Eater out of the way. Hermione blinks out of her shock at seeing Neville, and she pulls her robes sleeves down and quickly, but carefully picks it up. It warms at her touch, and she stows it in her robe’s pocket.

Better Poppy! Hermione squeaks loudly, dodging a giant brain tendril that tries to wrap around her. The House-Elf pops next to her, hissing at the brain.

Leave Young Mistress alone! The Elf squeaks, snapping her fingers, and the brain is tossed into a group of fleeing Death Eaters. A Death Eater dodges out from a giant brain’s path, and he looks up at Hermione. He raises his wand, but Astoria tramples over him to get to Hermione. She aims her hand at Neville, tracking the Omega as he chases a Death Eater while screaming his lungs off.

“NEVILLE!” Hermione roars, and he stumbles to a halt, turning towards her. Hermione jerks her Thrall at him, and he squeals as she yanks him across the floor. She grabs his arm, and Astoria skids to a halt next to her. Hermione grabs onto the giant Timber Wolf’s shoulder.

Take us to the Manor! Hermione squeaks, and Better Poppy Apparates them away.

* * *

They reappear in a drawing room, and Bella appears before them. Astoria snarls, and steps forwards, ready to attack, but Hermione tugs on the giant Timber Wolf, and she stops in her tracks. Bella raises an eyebrow at her, but then she looks at Neville.

“What the bloody fuck happened to him?” She asks, and Hermione looks down at him. He looks up at her with bloodshot eyes.

“I flew in space with aliens,” He says seriously.

“Better Poppy, take the Omega to my sister, she’ll figure out what happened to him.” Bella orders. The Elf bows, and then pops away with a dizzy Neville.

“I think he was affected by giant, flying brains.” Hermione says, and Bella narrows her eyes.

“In that case, you two stay here—oh, Fleur and your friends are awake.” Bella says quickly, and she Apparates away. Excitement fills Hermione, and she starts forwards, but after a few steps, it’s clear that Astoria isn’t following.

#Astoria?# Hermione barks, looking over her shoulder. The giant Timber Wolf sits down on her haunches, and lowers her head.

#You know, with my heightened sense of smell, I can tell that you’re an Alfā?# Astoria says in a forced cheerful tone.

#Ma Loupe [my Wolf], what’s wrong?# Hermione barks softly. There’s a long pause before Astoria speaks.

#I don’t want to see Daphne.# The young Alpha rumbles, and Hermione walks back to her. Astoria looks away from her, ashamed.

#You’re a Maledictus aren’t you,# Hermione woofs softly. Astoria pins her ears back, but nods. Hermione knows the fate of all Maledictus. Their destiny is tied to their blood curse, and they await the day when they shift into their animal. Eventually, they will lose their human conscious, forever.

#I knew the change was coming sooner or later, I just didn’t expect it to be now,# Astoria barks mournfully. Hermione gently pushes the giant Timber Wolf’s head up so they are eye-to-eye.

#I won’t allow you to fade.# Hermione growls, and Astoria lowers her eyes in defeat. Determination fills Hermione, and she closes her eyes. She hasn’t done this in a while, so coaxing up the tangible view of magic takes a little longer than usual.

Astoria’s magic is wild, unpredictable and thrashing at the change left upon her body. Hermione doesn’t keep herself from the young Alpha’s magic, letting herself seep through, breathing through the giant Timber Wolf.

Astoria’s muscles tense, making her magic vibrate with a heavy pulse, but Hermione hums Luna’s tune. The young Alpha calms when the music seeps into her muscles. Hermione keeps humming, and Astoria’s magic relaxes enough for Hermione to see the sickly-red color of the blood curse.

It’s such an intrinsic part of the Astoria that Hermione couldn’t remove even if she wanted to. She traces the blood curse to it’s main sources; Astoria’s magical core. Hermione delves into the giant Timber Wolf’s magical core slowly, and Astoria tenses once more.

Hermione coats tendrils of her magic around the blood curse, spindling it around her tendrils as yarn would collect in a spool. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, but Hermione begins to stretch the globs of the blood curse away from the magical core. She has to focus, since she doesn’t want to pull too hard and have the blood curse react negatively.

So Hermione keeps stretching the blood curse, gradually wearing it thin with holes. Suddenly, Astoria lets out a deep breath, and Hermione feels something settle back comfortably inside the young Alpha’s magical core. She slips out of Astoria’s magical core, and the blood curse flutters weakly.

They open their eyes at the same time, and Astoria smiles a wolfy smile.

* * *

A House-Elf opens the grand doors to one of the Black Manor’s formal living rooms, and Hermione barely dodges a stunner. It almost grazes her cheek, and Astoria ducks with a yelp.

“Hermione!” Five voices yell. Some are relieved, some are joyful, and only one is full of rage.

“_YOU HAVE SOME BLOODY NERVE KNOCKING US OUT AND KEEPING US WHEREVER THE BLOODY HELL HERE IS!_” Pansy roars in her Alpha voice, thrashing from her seat on the couch. Bella apparently bound the Alpha there. Hermione takes a single step into the room, and she’s tackled to the floor.

Tyche coils a little too tightly around her neck, rubbing her face all over Hermione’s head, hissing wordlessly.

Harold holds onto her left arm, firing question after question about Hermione’s well being.

Omega Tracey has Hermione’s right arm captive, and the Omega wails her apologies for failing Hermione.

Daphne alternates between cussing Hermione out and crying into Hermione’s chest.

And Fleur just holds onto her, silent tears dropping onto Hermione’s face.

Astoria barks, and Daphne looks up. Her brilliant grass-green eyes widen in horror, and Hermione is forgotten as the sisters stare at each other. They all get off the floor, and the rest of them back up to give the sisters some space. Astoria flicks her tail, and shuffles her paws.

“Oh Astoria, come here,” Daphne murmurs, opening her arms, and Astoria rushes forwards, slinging one paw over Daphne’s shoulder to pull her sister closer. Everyone’s quiet, even Pansy who watches with a neutral look.

“We should give them some space,” Hermione whispers, and the others nod. Fleur grasps her hand, and Hermione gives the Veela Alpha a quick smile. Snapping her fingers, Pansy is released from her position. They exit the living room quietly, and soon they cluster in the hall.

The House-Elf by the door stares shrewdly at them.

“Mistress ordered that you’s be taken to the second dining room.” He squeaks imperiously.

»Hermione, we should talk,« Fleur says in Velian, and Hermione nods.

“Take them first, Fleur and I shall meet you there later,” Hermione orders, and the House-Elf bows to her.

“Yes, Young Mistress,” He squeaks. Pansy crosses her arms.

“Now wait a min—” The Alpha starts, but the House-Elf snaps his fingers, and Pansy, Harold, and Omega Tracey disappear.

* * *

Hermione strokes Tyche soothingly as she and Fleur walk the halls of the Black Manor in silence. They make their way outside, and sit in the wild, tall grass.

»Thank you, Hermione, for saving me.« Fleur says, and she turns to face Hermione. The Veela Alpha looks at Tyche, and a loving smile graces her lips.

»You’ve done so much for me, both of you have,« She continues, and places her free hand on Hermione’s cheek. Tyche nuzzles against the hand, and Fleur strokes the Horned Serpent’s head.

»I swear to you Fleur, I’ll kill him for—« Hermione starts, but Fleur’s hand slides to cover Hermione’s mouth.

»Just wait, I still have more things to say,« She whispers, and Hermione nods. Fleur sighs, and she scoots closer to Hermione, leaning into her shoulder. Hermione breathes in her scent, and holds the Veela Alpha closer. Tyche unravels from her neck, and slithers along both of their shoulders.

There’s a soft weariness to Fleur that was never there when Hermione knew her. This Fleur has been through two traumatic experiences practically right after another, and she’s smoothed out her rough edges.

»I don’t think I’m ready to be with you in body. I don’t think I’m ready for anyone really, it’s simply . . . I need more time.« Fleur says, and Hermione hugs the Veela Alpha tighter.

»I understand.« Hermione says. She suspected that Fleur would tell her this, and she doesn’t blame her for it. If Fleur needs her as a supportive friend, then Hermione will be the best friend Fleur could ever have. A cloud passes over them,and they’re cast in shadow.

». . . Rozanica dammit, I told myself, no, but I just want one last kiss,« Fleur growls suddenly, and she grips Hermione’s chin. The Veela Alpha slowly guides Hermione forwards, and they both groan when their lips touch. Tyche slithers into the grass, looking up at them with amusement.

Fleur keeps the kiss soft and slow, and Hermione closes her eyes at the sensation. Their mouths move passionately against each other, and Hermione nibbles on Fleur’s bottom lip. The Veela Alpha shudders, and her tongue quests into Hermione’s mouth. Hermione has to hold herself back from jumping Fleur, and she lets the Veela Alpha own her mouth.

Fleur purrs, and Hermione twitches as she starts to get heated. After a long, languid stroke of the Veela Alpha’s tongue against Hermione’s, Fleur pulls away. Hermione whines, moving forwards involuntarily to chase those soft lips, but Fleur places a hand over Hermione’s heart.

She opens her eyes, and stares into loving cerulean-blue ones. Hermione has to take a breath to reign her urges back in. Fleur chuckles, and leans her forehead against Hermione’s. They sit in silence, just listening to the sounds of trees around them and breathing each other in.

* * *

**DEATH EATERS RETURN!**

The Minister of Magic, Alpha Tom Riddle, confirms that the most infamous group of terrorists calling themselves the Death Eaters have returned to this country and are active once more!

“It is with regret that we of the Ministry also report that a mass revolt of the Dementors of Azkaban bas occurred. They have refused to continue working for the Ministry, and we believe that the Dementors are currently taking direction from the Death Eaters.” Said Minister Riddle calmly as he addressed reporters.

≠ “We urge the magical population to remain vigilant. The Ministry is currently publishing guides to elementary home and personal defense that will be delivered free to all Wizarding homes within the coming month.”

The Minister’s statement was met with dismay and alarm from the Wizarding community, which as recently as Wednesday was receiving Ministry assurances that there was ≠ “scant if not any evidence in these ≠ persistent rumors that the Death Eaters are operating amongst us once more.”

Details of the events that led to the Ministry turn-around are still hazy, though it is believed that small a squad of Death Eaters gained entry to the Ministry of Magic itself on Thursday evening.

Alpha Albus Dumbledore; reinstated headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reinstated as a member (surprisingly not Supreme Mugwump) of the International Confederation of Wizards, reinstated as a member (also not Chief Warlock) of the Wizengamot; was unavailable for a comment last night.

While Dumbledore had insisted that the Death Eaters went underground to ‘ “gather their strength for their shadow deity” ’, he had no evidence to back his claims until now. Meanwhile Second Heiress Hermione Mendonica’s claim of the Death Eater’s return shines brightly in these dark times . . .

Hermione stops reading and tosses the _Sunday Prophet_ on the bedside stand. She’s sitting on a stool next to Luna’s bed in the Hospital Wing since she refused to leave Hogwarts while Luna was still there. Unsurprisingly, all of her Court and most of the H.G. stayed as well.

After Hermione and Fleur had their last kiss, they had lazed about under the clouds until Bella came to fetch them. Narcissa had performed miracles on Neville, and he was almost all the way up to full health. The only exception is that he has to chug _Dr. Ubbly’s Oblivious Unction_ seven times a day to keep from acting like the screaming lunatic he was in the Ministry.

Bella then escorted all of them back to Hogwarts where she dumped them off at the Hospital Wing, and then made a strategic exit when Madam Pomfrey transformed into the legendary Dragon of the Hospital Wing. They were locked in, and Dumbledore himself could barely abate the Omega woman’s fury.

“‘Respect the Alpha’s power, but beware the Omega’s wrath’,” Dumbledore had quoted sagely. All of them except Luna were cleared with a clean bill of health, as she was still magically drained and unconscious. During the Gamma’s three unconscious days, a few inconsequential events happened.

Ginny punched Beta Michael Corner for trying to hex Leilaki, and now is always seen with the smug Werewolf. Professor Flitwick roped off a small bit of Weasley’s twins swamp, and Firenze accepted Dumbledore’s offer to co-teach Divination with Professor Trelawney. Grawp was chased deeper into the Dark Forest by the Centaurs, and Dumbledore somehow retrieved the Pink Toad.

However, the weak Alpha looked vastly different from when Hermione saw her last. The Pink Toad was much thinner, and the Centaurs had managed to extract her venom, leaving pale scars tracing the veins where the venom had infected. She was shipped off to St. Mungos with splatters of Dungbombs coating her body; courtesy of Peeves.

Hermione sighs as she reviews those memories.

“I’m glad no one died,” She mutters.

“One will never find solace nor comfort with dealing with the dead,” Luna says dreamily, and she grunts when Hermione crushes her in a smothering hug.

— . —

_ACCIO_ = Summoning Charm

_Assists in healing mind injuries_ = Dr. Ubbly’s Oblivious Unction


	11. Summer To The Last One Standing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione finally has the talk with Draco, and another vision occurs!

Hermione reclines on her blanket on the bank of the clear lake with Hades dozing next to her. Tyche is sunbathing on the Cerberus, and Err’sh is out hunting. She sips water from an expensive champagne glass. Narcissa wouldn’t accept anything less under her roof, and now that Draco legally owns the Malfoy Manor, the Omega woman can redecorate to her heart’s content.

Narcissa had flipped the Manor’s entire color scheme, and now the halls gleamed in soft white and creamy tan colors with a sprinkle of gold lining everything. Also, the other major change was the absence of anything Peacock related.

Hermione takes another sip of her water. The start of this summer wasn’t exactly great, in fact, it was hardly anything at all. When Hermione had departed from Hogwarts and everyone, she returned to an empty Mendonica Palace. She didn’t find the Delacour siblings, the House-Elves didn’t respond to her calls, and even the Palace’s sentience seemed subdued.

In a last ditch attempt to find anyone, Hermione entered the Crypts from the Library, and was jumped by a hyper, overenthusiastic Hades. The Cerberus was definitely a lot bigger from since she last saw him, and his speech had improved vastly. Apparently, The Gate ordered Hades to take a vacation, and so Hermione decided to take Hades with her to visit Malfoy Manor.

It was completely socially awkward when she arrived on their doorstep unannounced, but Draco invited her in. Narcissa was a little more reserved. The Omega woman had assigned two House-Elves to follow Hades and make sure the Cerberus didn’t make a total mess of anything he touched.

A shadow falls over her, and Hermione opens her eyes to see Draco holding a glass of wine.

“I’m sso glad that Mother deccided to insstall thiss lake,” He says, sitting next to her. Hermione grins at him.

“It is very pleasant,” She says, and sits up. Hades stirs, and one eye on his left head opens.

#Is it time to get up, Dragga-Mama?# Hades yawns, and Hermione reaches over to scratch his head.

“Not yet, Hades,” She says, and the Cerberus falls back asleep. Draco watches them with a strange look, and Hermione tilts her head at him.

“What’s wrong Draco?” She asks, and the Alpha sighs, and he takes a sip of his wine.

“Did you really kill my Father?”

* * *

Draco’s voice is calm and steady, and he stares at Hermione with a solemn expression.

“Yes.” She says, and Draco takes a deep breath.

“Why?”

Hermione purses her lips, and collects her thoughts. She answers truthfully.

“He was a possible threat to my life, so I beheaded him.” She says firmly, and Draco shudders.

“You were never going to tell me.” He states.

“No,” Hermione admits. They sit in the heavy silence while Draco finishes his wine.

“Aunt Bella thought asss much. That’ss why sshe told me.” He says. Hermione hums, and takes a sip of her water. That also means that Bella would have told Narcissa, and possibly Andromeda and Tonks. Hermione idly thinks she should be showing guilt for Draco’s sake, but she doesn’t bother to try.

Draco deserves to know her stance on his Father’s death.

“I loathed you for a while. I almosst drove mysself mad thinking about how many otherss you’ve murdered. Yet, ass a Sslytherin, I can undersstand why you did it, and I loathed you even more for it.” Draco says coldly. Hermione stays quiet.

“Aunt Bella alsso told me that we’re better off without him. Aunt Andy wass ssympathetic, but sshe alwayss held a thinly veiled dissdian for Father. Mother truly mourned Father, yet I can ssee how happy sshe iss without him . . .”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I left you without a father.” Hermione murmurs, and Draco chuckles humorlessly.

“He wassn’t much of a Father, but he sstill wass mine.” Draco says, and they lapse into silence again.

“Do you want me to leave?” Hermione asks. Hades shuffles in his sleep, and he rolls against Hermione’s side.

“I don’t hate you enough to want you gone anymore, but I am sstill angry at you.” Draco says, and he stands.

“Dinner will be early today; my Auntss and the Greengrasses are coming over.” Draco informs her, and Hermione watches him walk back to the Manor in silence.

* * *

_She snaps awake when she hears the two loud pops, one right after another. Hermione feels the small snake straighten out her tense muscles. It’s a mistake, and the images jerk wildly as the snake tumbles off his branch. Hermione winces, bracing for impact, but the snake lands in a world of fur—and then Hermione feels the snake being squeezed through a tube._

_Apparation. To the snake, it’s not such a discomforting feeling, but the snake still shakes when his unknowing carrier arrives at their destination. The snake soft hiss of relief abruptly changes into a sharp warning hiss as a hand picks him up. Hermione can’t see anything clearly as the snake thrashes around, trying to free himself._

_»Aw, look how cute it is,« A female voice coos, and the snake freezes when something unseen surrounds his body. Hermione recognizes the Thrall, and she recognizes the Veela Alpha it belongs to._

_»Look Fem! There was a snake in my hood!« Alpha Vyvian Mendonica squeals excitedly. The snake can only move his head, and Hermione nudges him to look towards the other Veela. Eto is in the process of carefully wringing out blood from her clothes. The Veela Alfā flicks her blood soaked fingers at Vyvian, who hisses in annoyance._

_»Stop that! Do you know how expensive this coat was?!«_

_Eto snorts, and brushes a few hairs that managed to escape her bun behind her ear. It leaves streaks of red on her brow._

_»Of course I do. I was the one who bought it for you,« Hermione’s mother grumbles, and wipes some excess blood on her blood splattered trousers.Hermione can sense the snake’s rising fear._

_»Was that all_ really _necessary, I mean, you didn’t even have time to pick up Hermione. I would have done it if I had known, and I wouldn’t have had to act as a lookout for you,« Vyvian’s voice trails off disgruntled, and Eto finally looks up._

_»It was imperative to know what they knew.« She says coldly, and Vyvian hums unconvinced._

_»Oh yes, and you just _had_ to dump their bodies at _her_ doorstep.« The Veela Alpha drawls sarcastically, and Eto chooses to ignore it. She flicks some more blood onto her face, and then starts walking. Vyvian follows her, and looks down at the snake. Above the Veela Alpha’s head are tall tropical trees, and Hermione wonders where the two Veela are._

_»Fem’s just being grumpy cause she didn’t get to see Hermione,« Vyvian babbles in a baby voice to the snake, and they hear Eto growl softly._

_»You think she’s such a badass, but I know she just wants to cuddle with her favorite stuffed, reanimated bear—the one that conveniently is still at my house!« Vyvian mock whispers to the snake. Hermione can tell he’s just as confused about everything as Hermione is._

_»Stop fooling around—and you can’t mock Balthazar. He was my very first kill.« Eto snaps. Vyvian straightens, and holds the snake close to her chest. Now, Hermione can see that the pair have been walking along a narrow path through the dense forest. However, Eto stops randomly, and waves her hand in front of her._

_The snake looks down when a charred, black line appears across the path. Vyvian crouches, and at the closer look, Hermione sees that the line is made of millions of ward runes scorched into the ground._

_»Impressive.« Vyvian mutters,_ _and Eto hums. She draws a nine pointed star on the invisible barrier, and then walks through. Vyvian is quick to follow, the star disappears when they walk over the ward line. On the inside of the barrier, Hermione can see the magical shimmer extending high into the sky, and then arching to form a gigantic dome._

_But over what?_

_Hermione soon gets her answer when Vyvian and Eto clear the trees, and behold the huge, golden square temple. It’s front stairs are steep and extend only up three tiers of the structure to the entrance to the large castle situated on the third tier. And all around and on the temple and castle, dozens of spires of all shapes and sizes stand proudly._

_As the Veela walk towards across the open grounds, Hermione realizes there’s a woman waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. Eto and Vyvian draw closer, and stop a meter away from the witch. She’s short and stocky, with her strawberry-blond hair pulled back into a low ponytail over her sloping shoulders._

_She stares at Eto and Vyvian with distaste, and her stubby fingers tap on her dark blue robes._

_“Busy day?” The witch asks Eto, and the Veela Alfā smirks._

_“Very, Mz. Carrow.” Eto drawls, and the witch narrows her eyes. Hermione’s eyes widen at the name. She knows that Hestia and Flora have an estranged Alpha aunt who was banished from their family._

_“Don’t drip blood on my floors.” Ms. Carrow growls, and she starts climbing up the stairs. Eto and Vyvian share a look, and follow her. Soon, they enter the building, and the snake cringes, staring at the marbled floor. They walk further into the twisting building, and Hermione hears a door open and shut._

_The marble changes into uneven granite. Vyvian walks over to a couch, and sits down, and Hermione urges the snake to look around. He does, albeit very slowly. They’re in a large waiting area slash office, windows letting the soft afternoon light in, and Ms. Carrow stands behind a wooden desk. The images bob occasionally, and the snake flicks his tongue at being stroked._

_“You never did tell me why I should provide information for you, or whom I shall be gathering said intelligence on.” Ms. Carrow says tightly, and the snake smells her displeasure. Eto raises two fingers, and a letter appears between them. Wordlessly, she hands it to Ms. Carrow, who grimaces at the blood stains on it._

_There’s silence in the office as the Alpha woman opens the letter, and all the blood drains from her face. Eto leans closer to Ms. Carrow, getting right in her personal space to whisper something only the Alpha woman can hear. Ms. Carrow’s eyes widen in shock, and she clasps a hand over her mouth as the hand holding the letter begins to shake._

_“You won’t dizappoint me, will you?” Eto murmurs against Ms. Carrow’s forehead, and her bloodied hands gently stroke the Alpha woman’s jaw line. Red smears mark their paths. Vyvian shifts slightly, and the snake turns to look at her. The Veela Alpha is staring at Ms. Carrow with an angry look, and Hermione realizes she’s jealous._

_“N-n-no,” Ms. Carrow whispers shakily, and Eto’s grin is all teeth._

_“Good girl.” She purrs, and before she can back up, another door into the office swings open. Vyvian gasps, and drops the snake. He tumbles to the stone floor, hitting his head first. He lies stunned on the floor, and Hermione can only see Eto and Ms. Carrow from the angle of the snake’s head. She hears Vyvian stand._

_Hermione sees Eto stare as a range of emotions flick over her face. Abstract shock fades to fascination, which slips into frustration, and then hardens into resolution. Ms. Carrow’s face is full of terror._

_“Take your hands off my Mom.” A female voice growls. Hermione tries to wave away the snake’s dizziness and make it look at the new speaker, but he won’t move. Eto takes a single step towards Ms. Carrow’s daughter, but the Alpha woman grabs Eto’s wrist._

_“Don’t, please,” Ms. Carrow gasps, and Vyvian growls._

_»Say the word Fem and I’ll burn her hand off,« Vyvian hisses darkly._

_“Who are you?!” Ms. Carrow’s daughter snarls, and suddenly a Hare Patronus leaps through a window. Everyone freezes, and the Hare sits on Ms. Carrow’s desk. It licks its paw, and then speaks._

_“When she asks, you_ must _say no. You’ll know when not to.” Luna’s dreamy voice whispers._

_“What the fuck?” Ms. Carrow’s daughter mutters. The Hare turns to look at everyone in the room, even the snake._

_“When she asks, you_ must _say no. You’ll know when not to.” And with that, the Hare vanishes. Eto’s bright amber-blue eye burns, and she darts a glance at the snake. Hermione feels a chill shiver down his spine._

_“There can only be one,” Eto says almost apologetically to Ms. Carrow, and a spark in the Veela Alfā’s eye engulfs the office in Cursed Fire._

* * *

“—mione!”

Hands grab at Hermione, and she lurches up with a ragged breath.

“Oh thank Merlin!” Daphne cries, and she throws herself on top of Hermione.

“Wah?” Hermione groans, and then gags when Astoria slobbers over her face with her giant wolf tongue. Daphne clings to Hermione, and looks up at her with tears in her eyes.

“You wouldn’t wake up! And your Familiars’ eyes were glowing yellow!” The Beta sniffles, and Hermione hugs her. Err’sh, Tyche, and Hades eyes fade from yellow, although the Cerberus has trouble dispelling the yellow from his eyes. Tyche has to coach him through it.

“To top it off, you pissed off Cissy by missing her dinner.” Bella drawls from the doorway, and Draco; who was next to Daphne; glares in her direction.

“Not the time Aunt Bella.” He sighs, but the Alpha woman shrugs, and addresses Hermione.

“Did you hand in a withdrawal form to the Ministry about that program your mother signed you up for?” Bella asks, and Hermione opens her mouth at first to say ‘yes’, but then she remembers Luna’s words.

_When she asks, you_ must _say no. You’ll know when not to._

So Hermione says it.

“No?”

Bella nods, pleased.

“Good. Less paperwork for me.” The Alpha woman drawls,and saunters away.


	12. Summer In Death And Mist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione learns about "Harry's" prophecy, and about the Eternal Heart of Death!

Hermione secludes herself in Daphne and Astoria’s shared room in the Manor. She sifts through mail on Daphne’s bed as the Beta herself dozes with her head in Hermione’s lap. Tyche is curled around one of Hades’ heads, and the Cerberus is stretched out on the bottom of the bed.

Astoria is curled up on top of Hermione’s feet, her nose tucked under her tail adorably, and Err’sh has perched himself on her back comfortably. The giant Timber Wolf stares forlornly at Hermione’s fingers as they maneuver parchment.

The first letter is Hermione’s exam results; eleven O.W.L.s for all of her eleven classes; and the next is from Fleur. The Veela Alpha invites Hermione to accompany Fleur to a small get-together where her fellow Cursebreaker and coworker Bill is planning on coming out. He apparently wants to meet Hermione again as his “true gay self”.

Hermione furrows her eyebrows. She doesn’t know when she won’t have to say no to the “she” Luna mentioned. Erring on the side of caution, Hermione regretfully pens an apologetic reply declining Fleur’s invite. She sighs, and picks up another letter. This one is from Alpha Alastor Moody.

_Let’s have tea at the port. I already gave you the key to the cafe._

A slight thrill tingles through Hermione’s fingers. Her first Strike mission. Tucking the letter-portkey into her trouser pocket, she picks up the latest issue of the _Daily Prophet_. She sighs, and tucks a lock of bed hair behind her ear. The Death Eaters are now fully out in the open, causing mayhem and terror everywhere in Britain.

So far, they’ve only attacked in simple guerrilla attacks, but they’re getting braver. They just recently attacked Diagon Alley. They collapsed Brockdale Bridge, killing dozens of Muggles and many more severely injured. Alpha Amelia Bones, Head of the Auror Office, was almost murdered inside a room locked from the inside, but she survived.

Beta Emmeline Vance has gone missing, and is presumed dead. A few tribes of Giants appeared in ≠ West Country, uprooting trees, tearing off roofs, bending lampposts, and inflicting many injuries. ≠ The Dementors have also clearly chosen to side with the Death Eaters, and the number of their attacks and mating mists have been increasing all over the country.

Hermione tosses the newspaper down, and runs her fingers through Daphne’s hair. The Beta makes a pleased noise, and snuggles closer to Hermione. Hermione relaxes against the pillows propped up behind her, and her eyes drift over to her neatly folded Hogwarts robes where Harry’s prophecy still resides.

She’s been putting off listening to it for days now. Worries and doubts about the prophecy’s legitimacy plague her, and Hermione still harbors a tiny thought that the prophecy isn’t really Harry’s. Prophecies are powerful things, and Hermione is wary to mess with one.

Astoria notices her gaze, and looks over to her Hogwarts robes, then back to Hermione.

#What are you going to do with that orbbie thing?# She woofs softly. Hades rolls over, and his paws press up against Astoria’s back.

‡_You ssshould look at it,_‡ Tyche hisses, and Astoria’s ears automatically flick back towards the noise.

#I still can’t believe I can understand you now,# Astoria barks, twisting her head around to look at the Horned Serpent. Tyche hisses in annoyance.

‡_We’ve essstablissed thisss—now I remember some of your exxx-Sssonsssort’sss [ex-Consort’s] Cursssebreaker methodsss if getting cursssed isss your worry,_‡ Tyche hisses. Astoria turns back to Hermione with a confused look.

#What’s a ‘Sonsort?’#

Hermione ignores her question, and holds out her hand. Tyche easily uncoils from Hades and slithers to her Hermione. Her Familiar easily drapes herself on Hermione’s shoulders, and since Fleur constantly fed Tyche, the Horned Serpent has gotten bigger. She’s now able to wrap around Hermione’s neck, chest, and part of her torso.

‡_Do you really think I ssshould?_‡ Hermione hisses softly, and Tyche nuzzles Hermione’s cheek.

‡It’sss better than not knowing, and who elssse knowsss who lissstened to it?‡ Tyche hisses, and that’s enough to convince Hermione. She looks back to her pile of robes, and mentally summons the prophecy. Hades wakes up when the flapping of Hermione’s Hogwarts robes smack into Hermione’s palm.

Daphne flutters her eyes, and tilts her head up at Hermione.

“What are you doing?” She murmurs sleepily.

“We’re going to listen to a prophecy,” Hermione replies, and brilliant, grass-green eyes blink a few times to comprehend her words. Astoria perks up excitedly and Daphne gasps when Hermione levitates the prophecy out of it’s safe pocket.

“You _stole_ from the _Ministry?!_” Daphne hisses, and she sits up.

#The Death Eaters were going to steal it first anyway!# Astoria barks, and Daphne looks at her sister with a confused and pained look. Hermione wriggles her fingers, and the glass orb spins until she sees scratched writing on the glass.

_R.T.M. to E.R.M. and A.P.W.B.D._

_Magick and Soul_

The mist from inside the orb starts stirring, and Hermione remembers the redhead and the redhead’s insane seer mother. Daphne stares at the writing as well.

“That foul woman . . .” The Beta mutters.

“Ready to see her again?” Hermione asks, and levitates the prophecy between Astoria, Daphne, and her. The giant Timber Wolf nods. Hades tilts his heads, watching curiously. Tyche and Err’sh stay where they are, content just to wait.

#Let’s do this,# Astoria barks, and at the same time, she, Hermione, and Daphne place a finger or a paw on the prophecy. The glass burns them, and white fog devours them.

* * *

_#Woah, this is freaky as fuck,# Astoria barks softly in the blinding white fog. Daphne glances at her sister with an unamused expression._

_“Did you just curse?” She asks Astoria dryly, and Astoria looks away guiltily. Suddenly, the sound of disjointed footsteps sound next to them, and the Greengrass sisters flinch._

_“Remember, everything here happened in the past,” Daphne whispers to Astoria, and the giant Timber Wolf nods. Soon, a shape emerges from the fog, and the trio stare at an ancient, wizened crone. She’s leans heavily on her gnarled wooden staff, and the green crystal embedded like a hook on the top pulses worryingly._

_Even though her own body hinders her, the crone hobbles with a determination and hidden strength that shows her true beauty. Blind eyes manage to navigate through the fog, and the trio follow her. The fog starts rolling, peeling away to reveal the same plain wooden door as before. The crone enters the stone-walled room, leaving the door wide open behind her as she collapses into her chair, and out of view._

_Hermione keeps walking until she comes up beside the chair, and looks down at the crone. How many years has it been for the seer woman? Where is her redheaded daughter? The crone sighs, and looks up directly at Hermione. Daphne, who came up beside the chair on the other side, gasps._

_“She can see you!”_

_Astoria, who was pacing around the room, growls. Hermione shakes her head._

_“No, I don’t think she can. She just knows we would listen to this one day, and exactly what we would say,” Hermione replies, and the crone smiles._

_“**Correct,**” The crone_ _murmurs in French, and then turns to Daphne, who lurches back a step._

_“**My eyes are failing me, my child, and I cannot See as sharply as I once did,**” The crone whispers, her eyes fluttering sleepily. Hermione places a hand on the crone’s shoulder, holding her hand still to not let it pass through the crone’s form._

_“**Things are moving too fast, the Heart grows impatient, and we cannot wait for long,**” The crone trails off, staring at the wall in front of her._

_“**Who is the Heart? The Mouths, the Skull? Why are they ‘of Death’?**” Hermione asks, but the crone doesn’t answer._

_#Someone’s approaching!# Astoria barks, and Hermione looks towards the door. A blurry figure walks in, and Hermione narrows her eyes._

_“Uh, why does she look like she’s been smudged out?” Daphne asks warily, and Hermione has no answer. Indeed, the woman who just walked into the room looks like when water blends and blurs watercolor paint. There’s no distinguishing feature about her other than a red blob of hair on her head. Astoria trots over to Daphne’s side, staring suspiciously at the blurry figure._

_“**Forgive me children, but you this is not yours to know yet,**” The crone apologizes, and pats her shoulder where Hermione’s hand still hovers._

_“**Talking to yourself again Maman?**” The woman drawls, unamused. Hermione and Daphne’s eyes widen as they behold the much older daughter. The crone chuckles to herself._

_“**No, I don’t think I’ve ever been truly alone. Come here, sweet Lovebird, let me see your face,**” The crone_ _bids, and the woman obeys. She saunters in front of the crone, and then gets on her knees before the crone. The crone places her bony fingers on her daughter’s face, and the redhead leans into her mother’s touch._

_Hermione wishes she could see the redhead’s expression._

_“**I’m sorry I couldn’t visit more often, Miss G is waiting for me,**” The redhead murmurs, and Hermione hears the raw love and passion in her voice. The crone merely shakes her head and smiles sadly up at her._

_“**I’ll always love you, no matter—**” The crone’s words are cut off by her own body going rigid. Hermione can’t see the redhead’s expression, but she knows the daughter is concerned. The crone’s jaw moves up and down, until her eyes suddenly flare white. Daphne and Astoria both back up fearfully._

_There’s a moment of silence, and then a voice of a proud, sensual woman in her prime speaks._

_“Magick tells you; heed Her words; listen close:_

Magick _is coming._

_It shall roam the realm of war,_

_It shall find the Conqueror to restore._

_For the Ouroboros is waiting._

_It shall devour the Twin to prosper,_

_It shall seek the Seventh to foster,_

_For the Ouroboros is waiting._

_Beware the rise of the New,_

_Beware the blood of thy enemy,_

_For the Ouroboros is waiting._

_Sevenfold His curse of Olde,_

_Sevenfold His mark shall not take,_

_For the Ouroboros is waiting._

_Fly, thine true wing, fly!_

_Fly, for the_ Soul of the Fallen _is here!”_

_The white light begins to fade in the crone’s eyes, and suddenly, the redhead leaps to her feet._

_“**How’d you get in here?!**” She yells, and Cursed Fire erupts along her arms. There’s a reply, but everything starts to slow once more as the memory of the prophecy begins to end. Astoria tries to push Daphne away, but they are rooted to where they are. The last thing they see of the redhead is fire slowly swirling towards her, and then the white fog rushes in._

* * *

The trio blink in tandem as the prophecy swirls back into the glass orb. One thing’s for sure; that was definitely _not_ Harry’s prophecy. Without a word, Hermione lights the prophecy on Cursed Fire, shattering it forever. Daphne flinches, and then stares at the fine dust remains.

“That was more disturbing than the first time,” Daphne says, and Astoria butts her head against the Beta’s shoulder.

#Do you think they’re okay?# Astoria asks, and then her ears droop.

#Right, you can’t understand me.# She rumbles, and Daphne scratches the giant Timber Wolf’s head. They need answers to the prophecy, and Hermione knows the person who can help.

It’s time to visit her Great-Grandfather again.

* * *

Convincing Bella into Side-Apparating her to Nurmengard Castle is the easy part, the hard part is letting the Castle permit Tyche in. It apparently didn’t want creatures made of magic inside its walls. However, Bella forced the Castle’s doors to open, although it slammed grumpily behind them.

“Why couldn’t you have brought the bird?” Bella grumbles, glaring at the doors behind them. Tyche stirs around Hermione, and she raises her head to taste the air.

“He’s already met Err’sh.” Hermione replies softly, and they continue their way up silently up to Gellert’s cell. Bella hangs back in the short hallway, and Hermione enters Gellert’s cell, shutting the door softly behind her. Gellert’s leaning against the wall under the window, and he smiles without opening his eyes.

“You’ve grown.” He rasps, and Hermione settles herself down in front of him.

“This is Tyche,” Hermione says softly, stroking her Familiar’s head. The Horned Serpent stares at Gellert, and tilts her head. Hermione’s Great-Grandfather opens his eyes, and Tyche is intrigued.

“Lady Luck smiles upon me at last,” He smiles, and stretches out an arm. Tyche leans closer to it, sniffing him tentatively. The old Alpha looks at her adoringly, then tilts his head up at Hermione.

“Have you found your truth yet, Great-Granddaughter?” Gellert asks.

“No?” Hermione shrugs, and Gellert nods.

“Then ask what you have to ask,” He says gently, and strokes Tyche’s horns.

“During your war, they say that you foresaw things, you knew impossible things. How did you control your power?” Hermione asks, and Gellert’s white-black ringed eye seems to pulse with an unknown emotion. Prickling cold mist hisses through the cracks between the stone walls, chilling the cell.

“You cannot control Fate,” He whispers softly, deathly serious. Hermione fights not to shiver. Tyche pulls back from Gellert slowly, winding protectively around Hermione, and the gem on her forehead pulses warningly. Gellert shows his teeth in a deceptive smile.

“Do you know why I used a skull for a hookah? Why it had to be a human one?” He asks, and he starts to shuffle closer. Hermione keeps very still, aware she’s crossed a line she never knew existed. Shadows cling to the walls, and fold over them like delicate wraps of silk. In the dark, Gellert’s right, bright-blue eye glow like a soul, and his left, white-black ringed eye shine dangerously.

Tyche bares her fangs soundlessly.

“The Eternal Heart of Death decreed that the Glorious Skull of Death take my House as His Patron House.” Gellert barely breathes as he speaks, and he stops moving when his face is centimeters from Hermione’s own. Her eyes widen a little, and he smiles oily.

“I see you trying to uncover the rest of the pieces, my little Great-Grandchild. I had the Skull Hookah commissioned in His honor, but unlike the rest of His ilk, He does not care for the likes of us.” Gellert continues, and he reaches up a hand to touch her face, but Tyche rears forwards and sinks her fangs into his hand.

Gellert doesn’t even flinch as his hand freezes millimeters away from her cheek, nor does he look away from Hermione.

“What is his ilk?” She asks, and she can see clouds of steam from her own breath. Gellert licks his teeth, and a hacking chuckle shakes in his chest. His body starts to shake, and he switches his gaze to Tyche. Black venom pools around where the Horned Serpent’s fangs remain embedded instead of seeping into his body.

Hermione’s Great-Grandfather hisses wordlessly, and then starts to chant.

“_‘They are everything with nothing, / They are all kin but strangers, / They are gods and mortals, / Hail, They of Him, / Hail, He of First One, / Hail, He of Death.’_”


	13. Summer For The Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione makes the Order lose their HQ, and finds a certain locket!

As much as Bella wants to race out of Nurmengard Castle; for she was even more wary that she only had to wait what seemed to her to be half-an-hour; Hermione makes the Alpha woman walk through the castle slowly. Tyche’s coils are so tight, they’re constricting, and the Horned Serpent is on high alert.

For once, the Castle isn’t trying to keep her, and that gives Hermione a chance to look around. She pauses by a pair of open doors, looking through to a wide balcony overlooking a ransacked library below. The glass half of the dome ceiling faces the mountains, and only a curious, huge hole disrupts the peaceful scene.

Hermione shudders as déjà vu breaths over her, and now she hurries with Bella out ofNurmengard Castle.

* * *

Hermione wishes she could stay longer at the lively Malfoy Manor, but she can tell when her presence is unwelcome. Narcissa never said anything, but after she took Bella aside for a short, but fierce hissing contest about where they went, Hermione knows when it’s time to move on.

Daphne and Astoria are of course saddened, but the giant Timber Wolf has an appointment with a Master Transfiguration to see if the effects of her blood curse can be reversed. So with a warm farewell and a few parting gifts; Hermione bequeathing a docile-pet Skeeter Beetle to Daphne, and Hades deciding he wants to stay with Narcissa since she “pampers” him; Hermione has Bella Side-Apparate her, her Familiars, and luggage to Grimmauld Place.

Arriving in front of where it’s supposed to be, the Alpha woman frowns when she doesn’t see it. Bella tries to speak, but she chokes and can’t find her voice.

“Baby Siri seriously let the Order of the Chicken squat here? I can practically taste the _Fidelius Charm_,” Bellatrix snarls. The fact that both Bella and Eto compare the Order to chickens makes Hermione doubt whether or not she wants to associate herself with them. She’ll see what mission Moody has for her, and then she’ll decide.

“Dumbledore is the Secret Keeper,” Hermione drawls, watching the Alpha woman fume over a property that technically wasn’t part of her branch of the family. Although, as the House Head, she does sort of own it.

“Pathetic,” Bella huffs, and Hermione feels the Alpha woman’s magic reach towards the house. The Black magic responds, tearing through Dumbledore’s _Fidelius_ like wet paper, and brings back the ancient Black one. Grimmauld Place reveals itself. Bella snorts, and enter the house with the Black magic welcoming them.

It whispers the house’s two occupants, and Kreacher appears with a pop, groveling low before them.

“Mistresses, Kreacher is honored to serve such noble blood once more instead of the Half-bloods and filthy blood-traitors,” he croaks.

“Good on you Kreacher, now, burn anyone who doesn’t have explicit access to Grimmauld Place by any Black who isn’t Alpha Sirius Black,” Bella orders, and Kreacher grins gleefully.

“Kreacher shall serve with pleasure, Mistress.”

* * *

After ensuring that her taxi services aren’t needed anymore, Bella Apparates away and Hermione enters the kitchen. Reclining herself at the empty table, she finds a sort of peace from being alone. Smirking, she waves her hand, her magic gliding against the Black’s magic. It purrs and arches under her touch like a cat stretching.

“Er, can I come in?”

Hermione looks up to see Mundungus Fletcher standing in the kitchen doorway, fiddling with his joint between his fingers. Hermione nods, and the Beta man shuffles into a chair across from her. Inhaling on his joint, he starts puffing up a cloud of green smoke around him.

Kreacher appears at her side with tea, and two bowls of water for Tyche and Err’sh. He sets those on the table, and her Familiars hop and slither off Hermione’s body to drink.

“Uh, I found something for yeh, thought you’d like it,” Mundungus says awkwardly, and rifles around in his pockets for a bit. Hermione raises an eyebrow, but then the Beta man lets out a triumphant “aha”, and holds up a necklace. Kreacher’s eyes widen at the sight of it.

“THIEF OF MY MASTER!” He screeches, startling everyone when he throws himself at Mundungus’ face. The Beta man screams as he goes down, dropping the locket on the table. Tyche and Err’sh both tense, ready to assist Hermione in getting the House-Elf off the wailing Mundungus, but she stares at the necklace. She touches the chain, and jerks her hand back at it’s utter _wrongness_.

Tyche looks down at it, and then hisses aggressively in a continuous stream of noise. The silver “S” in the form of a snake lies centered over a golden gem piece, the casing is pure silver, and a snake-shaped clasp holds the two halves together. Err’sh likewise fluffs his feathers, glaring at the locket.

Hermione carefully levitates the volatile object, and glances up to see Kreacher nail Mundungus in the eye. The Beta man wails louder.

“Kreacher back off of him!” Hermione orders sharply, and the House-Elf lurches backwards. He halts his furious attack on the wizard, who cowers on the floor, breathing hard.

“Oh thanks girlie, the crazy Elf was trying to kill—” he silences himself when Hermione puts a finger to her lips.

“Where did you get this?” Hermione asks Kreacher, pointing to the Horcrux-locket.

“Master Regulus gave it to me to keep safe,” Kreacher croaks. Hermione nods, and then reaches down to her _Black Blade_.

“Kreacher, keep Mundungus exactly where he is,” Hermione orders, the House-Elf eagerly leaps on top of the Beta man. Tyche and Err’sh circle the locket, and the Horcrux-locket starts to tremble as if knowing what’s going to happen. Hermione raises her hand, then slams the _Blade_ down right in the center of the Horcrux-locket.

* * *

The Horcrux-locket explodes, black smoke pouring out as it screams. Mundungus shrieks, trying to crawl himself under the table, but Kreacker keeps him pinned. The black smoke surges towards her but she leaps back, her _Blade_ swinging, and the smoke screams in pain. The _Blade_ seems to ripple with magic, repulsing the smoke.

Hermione winds her hand back, and stabs the locket once more. The scream silences instantly, and the Horcrux is no more.

Kreacher is trembling where he stands, tears running down his face.

“Young Mistress did it! The thing Master so wished he could do!” Kreacher falls to his knees, a bright smile on his face.

“So it’s safe to come out now?” Mundungus asks from the floor. The Locket looks as if nothing ever happened to it. She smirks.

“Yes, it’s safe,” Hermione says, looking at the locket. Picking it up, she holds it eye level, feeling the smooth edges of the locket.

“Kreacher, tell me everything you know about this locket,” Hermione orders, and the Elf obeys.

“When Master Regulus reluctantly joined the Death Eaters in his youth, Minister Riddle took Kreacher to a hidden sea cave lake with a small rock island in the middle to hide the real locket. He’s ordered Kreacher to take the _Drink of Despair_ to make the last trap, and then filled the lake with Inferius. Master Regulus found out, and he’s make a fake with a note.”

Now a trembling note enters Kreacher’s voice.

“Kreacher took Master Regulus to retrieve the real locket, and Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to force him’s to take the _Drink of Despair_, even when Kreacher offered to drink . . .” The House-Elf trails off, then finishes his sad tale in a hushed whisper.

“Master Regulus was so lost in pain, that he’s disturbed the lake, and was consumed by Inferni.”

* * *

Hermione walks over to Kreacher and crouches before him. Be hops off Mundungus, and the Beta man scurries away from them. She takes Kreacher’s hands in hers, and smiles at him. The ancient House-Elf’s ears raise in shock.

Master Regulus would of been proud of you Kreacher. _I’m_ proud of you, Hermione squeaks in Gaëla, and Kreacher bursts into happy tears.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Mundungus asks, ruining the moment. Tyche turns towards him, hissing and there’s a flash of light from her forehead gem. Mundungus slumps to the ground, banging his head on the side of the table as he goes down.

‡_Thank you Tyche,_‡ Hermione hisses, and Err’sh humphs.

*Greedy raven,* He whistles.

“I give permission for Mundungus to stay here, but tell him when he wakes that if he betrays my trust, he betrays House Black,” Hermione orders Kreacher, and the Elf bows before obeying. Now, alone with the once-Horcrux locket, Hermione pokes at it with her _Black Blade_.

It makes a ringing _ting_ sound, and suddenly the crack in the locket heals over like a piece of flesh. Hermione lurches backwards, aiming her _Blade_ at the locket. Tyche and Err’sh circle the object, ready to attack any sign of movement. The locket shudders, and the clasp snaps open. Tyche and Err’sh lunge at it, but it shoots away faster than their eyes can track.

Hermione dodges to the side, but the locket flips itself, slinging it’s chain around Hermione’s head. She instantly drops the _Blade_ and raises her hands to protect her neck. But the chain doesn’t cinch tight to slit her throat or separate her head from her shoulders, it just hovers in front of her.

Tyche and Err’sh both freeze, aware of the danger the locket poses. Slowly, the front of the locket opens, and Hermione’s eyes go wide. On the inside of the lid, is a small mirror, and inside the locket is a small portrait of a beautiful young woman. The same smiling woman painted in the portrait that conceals the stairwell to the Basilisk Lair; _Roar of Ornth_.

* * *

For the longest minute, Hermione and the portrait just stare at each other. Then the portrait smiles.

‡_What lovely eyesss we ssshare,_‡ the woman hisses, and Hermione flinches. It’s her exact voice speaking to her, but tinged with a curling accent. Tyche flicks her tongue warily, and Err’sh tilts his head, confused.

‡_Who are you?_‡ Hermione hisses, and the portrait startles when she hears Hermione’s voice. Slowly, Tyche and Err’sh move over to Hermione’s side, looking at the portrait curiously. The woman looks at all three of them, and she smoothes down her simple white shift.

‡_Well, thisss isss awkward,_‡ the portrait hisses, and she crosses her arms uncannily like how Hermione does. The more she stares, the more she realizes the portrait resembles her physically in every way.

‡_You attacked Sssroosss-Sssueensss-Sssirasss! [Brood-Queen-Mother!]_‡ Tyche hisses, and flicks her tongue out at the portrait. The portrait rolls her eyes.

‡_Oh pleassse, if I wanted to attack sssomeone worth my time, I’d make sssure they’d feel it!_‡ The portrait hisses, and then sticks her tongue out immaturely at Tyche. The Horned Serpent bristles, but Err’sh smacks Tyche with his wing.

‡_Jussst tell me who you are,_‡ Hermione demands, but the portrait shakes her head and brings her hand to her face.

‡_Hasss thisss cccentury lossst all their ssskillsss in courtesssy? By Rozzzanica, adding a sssimple ‘pleassse’ to the end of your sssentence couldn’t kill you!_‡ The portrait groans, but Hermione latches onto a single word that was spoken.

‡_You ssswore by Rozzzanica,_‡ she hisses, a little shocked, and a thought forming in her mind about the portrait’s identity. The portrait rolls her eyes.

‡_Well of courssse, I’m the bloody Morrigan after all!_‡ The portrait exclaims, and throws her hands up. Hermione’s jaw drops.

‡_Morgana Le Fey,_‡ Hermione hisses, and Locket Morgana gives a little bow.

‡_That would be I,_‡ she hisses.

* * *

Hermione wakes on the couch in the Grimmauld Library, the Locket’s chain draped around her fingers. Piles of books about magical portraits remain stacked on the tea table from last night, and Hermione remembers none held any mention of the supposedly lost, one-thousand year old Locket.

The Locket that everyone believed belonged to Alpha Salazar Slytherin.

Locket Morgana wasn’t very forthcoming about any information even when Hermione asked politely. She had looked Hermione up and down, and then winked.

‡_Well sssweetie, I can only tell you that Houssse Black isss one of many of Morgana’sss dessscccendantsss. Rozzzanica only knowsss how incccessstuousss they’ve become now,_‡ she had hissed amusedly. That was the other matter. Apparently, she lived with a Veela long enough to start swearing by the Veela Goddess.

Hermione had entertained the idea that the real Morgana had to be her ancestor but from her Veela side, which would make Hermione the product of two of real Morgana’s lines merging. Honestly, it wasn’t a far stretched idea as the Locket Morgana had already demonstrated she wasn’t ashamed of her carefree sexual attitude. It was a very Veela personality.

The only thing Locket Morgana—whom Hermione “affectionately” nicknamed “Mini”—would tell her is about real Morgana’s other descendants. Apparently real Morgana was also one of the predecessors for all Metamorphmagi. All Hermione needs to do to access Mini’s memories is say the correct password.

The only problem is that it could be literally _anything_, and she only gets seven tries or Mini will destroy herself. She sets the Locket down on the table, and glances over at today’s _Daily Prophet_ that Kreacher delivered to her. The headline read: **CONFIRMED BY HEAD BLACK: HERMIONE MENDONICA IS A BLACK!**

Hermione wishes that Bella told her she was going to do that _before_ the Alpha woman announced it to the public.

‡_You finally awake yet?_‡ Mini hisses impatiently as the Locket snaps open, and Hermione sighs.

“Yes, Mini, I am.”

‡_Good. I decccided there wasss sssomething about me that I can tell you._‡

Hermione wakes up fully at Mini’s words. The portrait smirks smugly at Hermione’s undivided attention.

‡_I wasss opened fifty yearsss ago by a very bosssssy, pompousss brat who thought he wasss adirect dessscccendant of Sssalazzzar,_‡ Mini hisses. So Minister Riddle is the one making all the Horcruxes. Question is how many? While Hermione’s thinking that question over, she doesn’t realize Moody’s letter activates in her pocket, and the Black magic widens to let the Portkey take her away.

— . —

_Fidelius Charm_ = Fidelius Concealing Secret Charm 2x

_Induces fear, delirium, intense stomach pain, and extreme thirst in the drinker_ = Drink of Despair Potion 2x


	14. Summer With The Wilde Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets her first strike mission and things tumble on from there!

Hermione miraculously lands on her feet in an alley, and instantly she feels the hard pressure of a wand on her neck. She tenses, her Alfā pheromones and Thrall twitching. The Locket swings from her fingers, and Mini stays silent.

“When did you first meet Alpha Alastor Moody?” He growls, and she relaxes a bit.

“When I met the one I thought was him or when I met the real him?” She asks calmly, and Alastor pokes her with his wand.

“Both,” he snaps.

“At Hogwarts in the Great Hall, he had interrupted Dumbledore’s welcome speech, and in front of the Three Broomsticks with Tonks. She tried and failed to flirt with me,” Hermione says, and Alastor reluctantly pulls his wand away. Hermione whirls on him, aiming her hand at his head, and a nasty grin splits wide on his face.

“Who did Alpha Alastor Moody acknowledge is more paranoid than him?” She asks, and the Alpha man curls his lip.

“Minister Riddle,” he replies, and she lowers her hand. His eye latches onto the Locket, and she holds it up.

“Like it? I’m thinking about hanging it over my bed for sweet dreams,” Hermione drawls, and Alastor rolls his eye, dismissing the Locket.

“Quit playing around, we only have fifteen minutes to talk,” he growls, and takes out two small phials.

“_Polyjuice Potion_, now drink up,” Alastor orders, and he chugs his potion. Hermione hesitates for a second, and then swallows hers. She feels the Locket’s chain tighten around her hand, and the feeling of foreign worry brushes against her face. Instantly, the potion takes affect, and Hermione gags at the foul taste.

Boils bubble on her skin, forcibly changing her body. She shrinks, and her shirt hangs looser on her torso while her trousers become uncomfortably tight. She’s glad that she isn’t wearing any Wizarding robes, and can easily magically adjust her clothes to fit her new body.

Hermione looks up at Alastor, and her jaw drops. In front of her is a hunched, old, Asian lady with a bush of white hair. He transfigures his wand into a walking cane, and clothes into Muggle ones.

“Stop bloody staring and pretend to assist me!” A crackling voice barks at her, and Hermione blinks. She tucks the Locket around her neck and under her shirt, and offers an arm to him. He takes it grumpily.

“Who’s the granny?” She asks, and jolts a little at the sound of her deep, male voice. Alastor scoffs, and he subtly leads them out of the alley while making it look like she’s the one guiding them.

“Your granny, boy!” Alastor snaps, and Hermione blinks. They step out onto the sidewalk, and almost collide with a group of Muggle girls.

“Oh, sorry,” Hermione says in her strange new voice, and the British girls; so they’re still in London it seems; trip over themselves to say it was their fault. They part for them, and Alastor growls in irritation as they keep walking.

“Pansies, the lot of them,” he humphs, and Hermione rolls her eyes. He leads them to a cafe called Starbucks, and they take a two-seater table in the back of the cafe. Alastor fidgets in his seat, and eyes a nearby Muggle man suspiciously.

“So Granny, what chore do you want me to do for your house?” Hermione drawls, and Alastor looks up flintily.

“We’re not here to have fun, boy,” he growls, and drums his fingers on the table. Hermione shrugs.

“I’m just feeling out the character.”

Alastor sneers, but covers it up when a Muggle family passes them.

“One of my landlord’s chickens has disappeared. I went looking for it, and I discovered that it decided to take up residence in his neighbor’s chicken coop,” he says, and Hermione sits up. A hunger curls in her for the hunt, and she smirks.

“How unfortunate,” she sighs dramatically, and Alastor scoffs.

“Yes, how bloody unfortunate. Now, my landlord trusted this chicken, they had a long standing partnership, and his mastiff fancied the chicken,” Alastor says carefully, and Hermione narrows her eyes when her prey’s identity begins to reveal itself.

“The chicken turned her back on my landlord by choosing his neighbor. However, Karma’s a bitch, and for some reason, a flock of hawks spirited our chicken away.”

Alastor fixes Hermione with a hard, serious stare. He ignores the devilishly, big smile on her face, and stabs a wrinkled finger at her.

“Your _chore_, is to either retrieve my landlord’s chicken if you are able, and if you can’t, then dispose of it permanently.”

* * *

Hermione escorts Alastor back to the alley, and he Disapparates as soon as she releases him. Too many thoughts and emotions roll and tumble in her, but the bright, bouncing, excitement dominates everything. She’s ready to prowl, to stalk, and to _hunt_. Her thoughts concerning the murderess Alpha Olympe Maxine were pushed to the back of her mind.

They were still there, but they were like a low simmering soup that she occasionally checked on to make sure they were still boiling. She understands why Dumbledore chose her for this Strike mission. As a Veela herself, she could find out where and why they were holding the murderess.

It is also a test of loyalty to the Order of the Phoenix, but in the end, they just played into her desire. Hermione crackles ferally. She doesn’t notice how the Locket around her neck vibrates with her dark, eagerness.

‡_A hunt,_‡ Mini hisses to herself, and she too cackles in glee. Hermione waits for the rest of the potion to wear off, and when it does, she fixes her clothes again. She can sense Tyche and Err’sh stirring curiously through their Familiar bond. Hermione sends calming emotions through their bond, and snaps her fingers.

“Cobra!”

Her House-Elf appears with a pop and a low bow.

Young Mistress! Cobra’s longs to serve! He squeaks, and she holds out her hand.

“Take me to the traitor Eto locked up,” she orders, and he takes her hand, Side-Apparating them away.

* * *

The wall of cold slams into Hermione, and she sucks in a sharp breath. In this part of the Crypts, the winds are a galeforce,howling up and down the misty tunnel. Cobra shivers, but he straightens himself. He points ahead at a door-size hole in the wall, his words lost in the wind.

Hermione brings an arm up to her face, and she lets the Elf lead them forwards. As she walks, the winds seem to bend around her and Cobra, and by the time she stops in front of the hole, the winds don’t bother them. Hermione morphs her eyes to see in the dark, and they look upon the prisoner.

Her prey.

Hermione smirks, and the murderess looks up.

* * *

They don’t speak, but just take the time to observe each other. Hermione’s prey has seen better days; she’s bloody and bruised all over, and her skin is loose around her bones. Not a single article of clothing adorns her prey’s body, so she is able to count each individual rib of the Half-Giantess.

“**Have you come to gloat?**” Her prey croaks in French, and Hermione tilts her head. Killing the murderess like this . . . Is too easy. It’s a quick out of her prey’s physical pain, and it’s an unsatisfying feeling that she didn’t have to exert herself to hunt her prey. That feeling doesn’t sit right with Hermione.

The Locket rises from under her shirt, and her prey squints her eyes at it.

‡_Declare the Wilde Hunt Right,_‡ Mini’s voice hisses from behind the closed lid of the Locket. Cobra gasps, and his eyes go wide.

Oh Young Mistress! Wild Hunt Right are very honorable! He squeaks in awe.

‡_Sssay it in the Olde way, claim her as your Prey,_‡ Mini hisses excitedly, and Hermione nods slowly.

“**I, Alfā Hermione Eto Mendonica, declare the Wilde Hunt Right. I claim Alpha Olympe Maxine as my Prey,**” she intones, and the Crypts magic suddenly throbs around her. The Half-Giant gasps, and the sound rattles in her chest.

“**No,**” she whispers fearfully. The sound of fast past heels draws Hermione’s attention, and the Locket slips back under her shirt. She looks to the right to see Eto, and the Veela Alfā looks a little miffed.

»I don’t take kindly to the Crypts summoning me for a Wilde Hunt Right,« she says cooly in Velain. Hermione shrugs, and Cobra hugs her leg for warmth. Eto looks her up and down, and then looks at Hermione’s prey. The Half-Giantess flinches at the sight of Eto, and Hermione can’t help but remember her mother covered in blood.

»I’ll call an emergency Council meeting—«

»Wait, what? Why?« Hermione interrupts, and Eto raises her eyebrow at Hermione.

»A Wilde Hunt Right hasn’t been declared in centuries. The last time it was declared was sometime after the last member of Hogwarts’ founders died. Hunts always have been a public event, and to coordinate one is no small feat,« Eto quickly lectures, and Hermione nods.

They start walking down the eerie tunnel of the Crypts, leaving Hermione’s prey shouting questions behind them. Eto motions Cobra away, and he bows before popping away.

»When do you think I can Hunt her?« Hermione asks giddily, and Eto looks at her fondly.

»Within two or three days, give or take,« Eto says, and she pulls a small pocket watch from her suit breast pocket. In one hand, she crunches the watch, and it lets a chilling, mournful note.

»What’s that?« Hermione asks, and Eto carefully puts the broken watch back.

»My emergency alert. Now, I have a Council meeting to attend,« Eto says, and as she takes a step, she simply winks out of existence. Hermione startles, staring at the spot where her mother was. She forgets about her prey, and she sniffs for any magical residue.

None. Not even the Crypt magic was used.

Even Eto’s scent trail simply cuts off abruptly instead of marking a wide area like when someone Apparates. Even she leaves a splotchy scent mark when she uses _Slither-Syasasion_. Whatever Eto just did, it is as if she was never there to begin with. The Locket slips out from under her shirt again, and this time the lid opens to show Mini.

She has her arms crossed, and stares shrewdly at the spot where Eto was.

‡_What kind of magic wasss that? I’ve never ssseen anything like it!_‡ She hisses, and Hermione shakes her head.

‡_I have no idea . . ._‡ she hisses. She hesitantly keeps walking through the Crypts, and Hermione can’t help but turn over the thought that something otherworldly was at work.

* * *

Hermione morphs her True-Veela wings from her back, stretching them out before she folds them on her back. Cobra scampers around her, making detailed adjustments to her Predator leathers. There’s actually not that much covering her body; she has a chest wrap with a second, thinner layer of goat skin.

Adorning the top of her arms and shoulders are interlocking, thick leather armor plates. They’re painted in her House colors, and they can stretch for when she morphs into her True-Veela self. A long strip of black leather wraps around her hips in an ‘X’ form, and four strips of white cloth; which cover her front, back, and sides; flutter in the wind flowing through the cave.

Tyche curls around her bare feet, rubbing her head comfortingly on Hermione’s ankles like she can imbue luck into Hermione’s skin. Err’sh is perched on a nearby rock outside the cave, keeping a lookout. As the Predator, Hermione can’t be seen by any of the spectators and other Predators.

Young Mistress, Cobra must remove your’s accessories, he squeaks, and Hermione sighs, but nods. The whole getup is a little on the nose in her opinion, but she understands the necessity of tradition. A Veela does not need a weapon in the Wilde Hunt, for she is one.

So _Madisntic’s Necklace_, _Tearful Joy_, _Violet Eyes_, and Mini are taken off her neck, her _Black Blade_ and its sheath are unbuckled from her right thigh, her _Revol Key_ unclasps from her left wrist, and she takes out Ariel’s Blood Pact from her right ear. Cobra holds her things reverently, and he bows low.

‡_Have fun!_‡ Mini hisses just before Cobra pops away. Hermione sighs, and rolls her shoulders. She already feels off without the comforting weight of her accessories. She turns to Err’sh and Tyche.

“You know the rules,” Hermione says, and while Err’sh nods, Tyche bristles.

‡_Yesss, I may hate them, but I ssshall not asssssissst you in your hunt,_‡ the Horned Serpent hisses testily, and Err’sh whacks her with his wing.

*We’ll keep your birth flock company,* he whistles, and in the distance, a bellowing horn sounds. Hermione narrows her eyes, and walks out of the cave.

*Good hunting!* Err’sh whistles, and Tyche _Slither-Syasasions_ them away.

* * *

Fleur is a mess of turmoiling emotions. She keeps her body perfectly still, ignoring the whispers aimed her way. Her Mother and sister sit pressed up against her sides, and Gabrielle glares at any Veela staring at them. She blinks slowly, and lets out a shaky breath. Her Mother doesn’t say anything, but she places a calming hand on Fleur’s knee.

Why did Hermine have to do this? _Why?_

Fleur thought they both could leave what happened to her in the past. Forcing herself to forget the memory has worked thus far, and the few who knew mellowed out. But now, _everyone_ knows. She feels the cold burn of a certain eye on her back, and Fleur risks a glance to the side.

Madame Alfā Etoilnaiphas Mendonica locks glazes with Fleur, and Fleur can’t help but shudder at the chills that tap down her skin. The Veela Alfā’s wings seem to glow brightly against the dark colored wings of the Madames around her. As Hermione’s House Head and Mother, Madame Mendonica sits in the place of honor just to the right of the Matriarch; Fleur’s Grand-mère.

— . —

_Allows a human drinker to temporarily assume the form of anther person_ = Polyjuice Potion


	15. Summer Of Predators

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione performs the Wilde Hunt Right, and Fleur isn't happy about it.

Fleur looks away from Madame Mendonica, and focuses her eyes back over a spot on the horizon over the forest. She remembers the dinner when her Grand-mère’s Council pendant activated, and now, the result is the largest gathering of Veelas since the Dark Ages.

All the Madames and their immediate families sit on a floating scaffolding, and Fleur’s Grand-mère sits on the highest level. The rest of the spectators can claim spots on various floating platforms or just hover in place. Fleur spots Kate up with the Mendonica family, and she notices how the Omega is draped over the Mendonica twins.

Fleur’s gaze switches to Katie, and she sees the Veela accepting Predator leathers from a Council member. A flash of worry courses through her, and she looks back over the forest. Hermione is in there somewhere, getting a head start on the other Predators by virtue of scoping out the forest beforehand.

She can’t help but worry that this whole event is going to go terribly wrong. Suddenly a hush slices through the chittering of thousands of voices. Two Wind Whisperers dressed in the full leather armor set fly up from the ground. One has the Mendonica House colors, and the other has her House colors.

Held between them, is her old Headmistress, Madame Maxine. Fleur flinches hard into her Mother, and the older Alpha doesn’t hesitate in wrapping a wing around Fleur’s shivering frame. She snaps her eyes shut hard, determinedly beating back the memories that threaten to overwhelm her.

Phantom touches ghost over her skin, and she pulls her Mother’s wing tighter around her. The sight of _her_ refuses to leave her mind. Even with the white shift covering her dignity, it can’t hide how skeletal she looks.

_I should be the one to hunt_ her_, not Hermione._ A vindictive thought worms into Fleur’s mind, and she sucks in a breath. Her breathing becomes too loud to her ears, and the sounds of wings thrumming in the air dims. Fleur peeks her head up, and sees her Grand-mère snap open her wings.

The two Wind Whisperers Disapparate, taking Maxine with them. Her Grand-mère starts flapping her wings slowly, angling them so she won’t get any lift and so they just make noise. Gradually, every Veela matches her Grand-mère’s wing beats, and the slow pounding sounds like a gigantic heart.

It’s at odds with her erratic one.

Fleur’s thoughts spiral in her mind, too fast for her to consider the consequences, and she just acts. She moves too fast, startling her Mother and sister, and she dives at a lower Council member with a set of Predator leathers. Only a few Veela have noticed her, and she plans to keep it that way.

Fleur snatches them out of the Veela’s hands, and she changes in a blur. Her mind blanks over it, but in seconds, she’s a Predator. Madame Mendonica blows the bellowing horn, and her Grand-mère looks down. She and Fleur lock gazes, and the old Alpha’s stoic expression melts into a shocked one as Fleur Disapparates into the forest.

* * *

Hermione flies low over the forest ground, letting her magic morph her skin “clear”. Now, she’s essentially camouflaged against the leaf litter, and the other Veela Predators will only spot her movement, but not her shape. She closes her eyes, inhaling the scents of the forest. She could have chosen to fly near the branches, but every Veela Predator will be doing that.

While they may have the advantage of the high ground, they have to pay attention to vines and smaller branches getting in their way. Hermione sniffs the air for her prey,and she closes her eyes. She trusts her body to fly around the bushes and trees while she tunes into the magic around her.

Suddenly, the forest lights up with the powerful glow of magic. It’s everywhere, and Hermione recognizes The Gate’s touch entrenching every greenery around the Colligation for kilometers. Hermione pauses, hovering as she looks around. In the distance, she sees the magic inside other Veela Predators.

She continues looking around, squinting to see the tell-tale magical form of her prey. Nothing yet. Hermione takes off again, keeping track of the other Predators as she hunts. She wishes she could morph into her Ancient Chimoretis form, but Eto and Mini explained that her morphing is explicitly against the rules of the Wilde Hunt.

Hermione exhales, and then an idea comes to her. She lands, and presses her palms flat against the soft dirt. Her Thrall pulses out of her hands into the earth, easily connecting with the natural magic of the expansive tree root system. Hermione winces at the sudden onslaught of sensual information that floods her mind, and she struggles to pull her conscious above the heavy stream.

Gasping for air, Hermione wraps her mind in her Thrall, and dives back down. Engulfed by the natural magic, she mentally swims through its current, and she passes by a pair of Veela. Hermione senses both of them become aware of her presence before she passes on.

Her mind swims along, when suddenly a splash in the magic sends shockwaves rolling out urgently. Hermione braces herself against the forces pounding against her mind, and she glimpses her prey, crazed with mad terror, before her physical body is siphoned into the natural magic.

* * *

Fleur gasps when she senses Hermione under her. The other Veela Predator that she had crossed her path flicks her eyes to the ground as well. There’s a second of uncertainty between them, and then they both take off at a sprint after Hermione’s magical presence. Fleur knows that out of all the Veela in the Wilde Hunt, Hermione has the best chance of finding _her_ first.

So she flies faster than the other Veela Predator, uses the tree branches to fling herself further, and Fleur desperately wishes that she catches up to Hermione before the Veela Alfā commits murder in the guise of an olde and savage right of passage. As much as she hates _her_ with all her being, Fleur won’t cross the line of murder.

But Hermione . . . Fleur knows that the Alfā will do anything to protect those she loves, even if she destroys herself in the process.

* * *

Hermione flails in the grip of something far more powerful and extensive than she. Cold magic slicks along her skin, spinning her round and round and hardening like a shell. It demands answers from her, her actions, her past, and when the cold magic hardens on her neck, Hermione screams as it invades her body.

It drips into her veins, freezing her insides and Hermione’s scream turns into a soundless howl when frost begins to break through the pores in her flesh. Her wings stiffen, ice coating each feather, and Hermione knows that the natural magic is no place for any living being.

It wants to consume her, change her physical blood and meat into tangible, cold, magic, but to do that, it first must remake her. Hermione struggles to move, to claw her mind to safety, but the cold magic pushes back. It pushes deep into her consciousness, and hits a speck of something _other_, something so hot it’s _molten-cold_ and—

—the Veela forgets her name.

* * *

She lets out a choking sob when the cold magic recoils swiftly, drawing itself away from the _other_. An river of calm sways around the Veela, and she leans forward within her hardened shell, with her mouth open. There’s a moment of hesitation, as if the Veela is holding herself back from accepting the calm and knowledge it will bring with it.

The Veela bites down anyway, drinking the river like she is the parched desert aching for a drop of moisture. Before she knows it, there is no more river left, and she relaxes in the natural magic’s hold. The cold magic screeches as the river purges it out of her system, warming her up again, and the frost mists off her body in a hiss.

It fills her up with warmth and comfort and memories. So many memories . . . The Veela blinks lethargically. She remembers . . . _Everything_ . . . She remembers what she must do. She reaches out, summoning the cold magic to her. It roars and thrashes in her hold, straining to pull away from her.

The Veela stares, amused by its futile attempts to escape. She cups her hands, and the cold magic goes silent as she tears it apart. She casts the pieces at her feet just like the Half of Death taught her, and she rises.

* * *

Fleur brings herself to a sudden halt when the forest ceases all movement. The winds buffet her face, her hair, her clothes, but not a single leaf flutters. No animals make any noise, and Fleur can see the movement of wary Veela Predators in the forest. It’s as if time for the forest has stopped.

She can hear the worried and nervous chatter of the Veela watching at the edge of the forest, their whispers twisting and winding around tree trunks. Fleur shivers, and flexes her wings. Very slowly, Fleur spreads her wings to take to flight, to find Hermione, to get away from whatever force the forest has succumb to.

»_PING_.«

Fleur flinches at the sudden, sharp note in Velian. It rings out loud and clear throughout the forest, and she swears that the trees lean towards the sound. The invitation.

»_PING_.«

Fleur takes off in a flurry of feathers, flying towards the sound. Above the now shaking trees, everything seems too loud in the once silence of the forest. She sees other Veela Predators rising above the trees as well, all of them flying towards the source of the disturbance. To Hermione.

The rest of the Veela watching have started to fly after them as well, and Fleur spots Madame Mendonica soaring higher than the rest of the massive flock with her personal Wind Whisperers flanking her. Even from this distance, Fleur can see the glint of the burning white of Madame Mendonica’s one eye.

* * *

The Veela hovers above her prey, her wings folding themselves on her back. She rolls her head, stretching the tendons in her neck. Her prey cowers before her, foreign-yet-not-foreign tumbling from its mouth. She looks at the pieces of the cold magic still holding her aloft, and she summons them to her taloned hand.

Gently, her feet touch grass, and the cold magic swirls submissively on her palm. The Veela revels in her True form, and she tosses the cold magic over her prey. It screams when it’s skin starts to freeze, just like the Veela’s once did. She doesn’t have to look up to know when she has an audience, for she hears the thousands of wingbeats churning the air.

She remembers the rules.

In one swift move, the Veela plunges her talons into her prey’s chest, and blood squirts all up her arm and face. The prey is dying now, and she closes her fingers around the life-giving organ. The Veela stares into her prey’s eyes as she pulls its heart out, giving it the honor of its Predator acknowledging the life it has lived before it dies.

The Veela stands when her prey slumps, its corpse still leaking copious amounts of blood. She looks up at the Veela around her, and her gaze find stricken cerulean-blue eyes. She knows this Veela, yes, she remembers her now. As if in a trance, the Veela raises the heart to her lips, ignoring the gore dripping off her arm, and takes a bite.

The other Veela’s eyes widen as she consumes the heart bite by messy bite. At last, the heart is gone, and the Wilde Hunt Right is complete. Suddenly loud cheers break out from parts of the flock, and soon, all the Veela join in, roaring their approval of the Hunt and the kill. A small grin appears on the Veela’s face, and she unfurls her wings to fly up.

The cheers and applause grows, and someone starts chanting a word. The flock quickly catches on, and then that word is howled into the sky. The Veela is confused at first, but then she realizes, the Veela flock have named her.

»_PRÉSAGE!_«

»_PRÉSAGE!_«

»_PRÉSAGE!_«

She grins, and she opens her arms, welcoming her new name as sleep starts to claim her.

»_PRÉSAGE!_«

»_PRÉSAGE!_«

»_PRÉSAGE!_«

Présage closes her eyes, sinking into herself and—

—Hermione wakes up.

* * *

It’s been almost two weeks—which only leaves two days until the summer ends—since her successful Wilde Hunt Right, and Hermione still doesn’t understand what happened to her. She remembers everything of course, but she doesn’t remember what she was thinking at the time. She can’t remember what she was feeling at all, she just has the visual memories.

Hermione crosses her arms, wishing she could speak with Mini, however, the Locket wants to get acquainted with Tyche more. She leans against the wall of the Predator Museum in the Colligation, watching master masons carve her likeness into a towering marble statue. No magic is permitted in the museum, and every Predator statue here was crafted by hand. Her statue captures the exact moment when she bit into her prey’s heart, her prey crumpled at her feet.

She stares at her True Veela self, wishing that she could remember morphing into form. Hermione closes her eyes, and wills herself to morph. Her body churns, and she grits her teeth. Opening her eyes, Hermione scoffs angrily when she finds that she hasn’t morphed at all. One of the master masons hears her, and the Veela turns around.

»Oh! Predator Stillwood! I didn’t know you’d be here!« The Veela exclaims breathily, and the other masons look up in shock. Hermione shrugs.

»I was just passing by, keep up the good work,« she says and leaves the Predator Museum. The second she exits the building, Hermione morphs her wings out and takes to the sky. Veela flying by her greet her excitedly by her new title, and a few times she’s mobbed by eager Veela wanting to speak with her, so it takes her longer to get to the Mendonica Palace.

It welcomes her in, and Hermione finally breathes a sigh of relief. The Palace creates a door next to her, and she uses it to enter her room without being bothered by her family. Morphing her wings away, Hermione collapses on her bed. She’s unusually tired, and all she wants to do is go back to Hogwarts to be with her pack. She wants Fleur to return her letters, but for some reason the Veela is giving her the silent treatment.

At least Alastor was immensely pleased when she brought her prey’s corpse to him and Dumbledore. Err’sh flies into her room, two letters in his beak. Groaning, Hermione takes them, skimming over Dumbledore’s announcement that Professor Snape is taking the DADA position, and then pausing on said Professor’s letter.

_Miss Mendonica,_

_Your presence is required by the flaming bird. Report to Potter Manor to receive your instructions._

_Professor Snape_


End file.
